


Dearest Regret

by ren_sauce



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Jake Dillinger Is A Good Man, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pokemon References, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Tension, Shotgunning, To All The Boys I've Loved Before AU, honestly there are way too many pins and patches fics that turn out to be endgame boyf riends, i am officially putting a stop to it, i guess some sexual tension?, jeremy's kind of a dick but he doesn't mean to be!!, mewtwo strikes back spoilers because that movie is a cinematic MASTERPIECE, michael christine and tay are foster sibs, michael makes mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-10-22 10:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ren_sauce/pseuds/ren_sauce
Summary: Michael's letters were his most treasured, most secret possessions. He only wrote one when he had a crush so intense that he didn’t know what else to do. It's not like he'd ever send them, though; they were just for him. A way for him to understand his emotions and come to terms with them. Only for him to see."Look," Jake said finally, pulling a small slip of paper from his pocket. "I'm really flattered, and I think it's real sweet that you think I have, uhh... Little golden flecks in my eyes? That’s real poetic, dude, I appreciate it. But me and Chloe like, just broke up, and- “He knew that paper. He knew those words.That was his paper.Those were his words.That was his letter.





	1. Love, Michael

**Author's Note:**

> yooooo guess who's writing another multichappppp
> 
> proper multichap this time not the three parters i did before
> 
> i made this au a year ago and i'm finally writing it whip
> 
> i've written up to three chapters and so far and i'm gonna try to stick to a weekly update schedule so i have time to write the other chapters as well. hiatuses are,,, not fun. that being said, i may update a little late at times considering i do have to worry about schoolwork and shit. m'bad.

_Dear Jeremy Heere,_

_I've kind of been putting off writing this. I mean, you're my best friend. You're dating Christine, and she's literally my sister. But I've been putting this off since the 8th grade and I just can't keep it shoved down anymore._

_Jeremy, I love you._

_I've been in love with you ever since that sleepover we had in middle school when we watched Insidious and when that weird Darth Maul demon popped up you screamed and grabbed my hand. I love how your eyes crinkle when you smile. I love the snort sound you make when you laugh too hard. I love your beautiful blue eyes and that one big curl in your hair you can't brush out - and I really hope you don't brush it out because it's just so cute. I love how you've always been there for me no matter what, even when you started dating Christine. I loved you_ first _. And I know we haven't been spending much time together, because of the whole you and Christine thing and the me being in love with you thing. But I do love you. I think I always have. And I've loved other people along the way - at least, I think I have - but it's always come back to you. I can't stop loving you, Jer. I've tried._

_So yeah, that's why I decided to write this. I just couldn't keep it in any longer. And I know you're probably never gonna read this but-_

"Michael!" Taylor all but screamed as he barged into Michael's room. "C'mon, mom one called you up ten minutes ago!"

Michael yelped, shoving the letter under his pillow. "Dude!" He squawked. "Do you know what knocking is?!"

"Excuse you, my presence is a _gift."_ Taylor huffed. "And hurry up, lazy! Dinner’s soon!”

"Man.” Michael sighed. “Which mom is cooking?”

“Mom two.” Christine smiled, poking her head from behind Michael’s door. “And she says to hurry up, so I want both of you to go down there, eat the food, smile and say “mm, just like grandmas!”. Okay?”

“Fine.” Both boys sighed.

“Great!” Christine giggled. “Now hurry up, I left Jeremy down stairs and I’m scared the moms are gonna start circling him.”

Michael fought a wince as Christine ducked out of his room. It was incredibly hard to avoid a guy who was dating your foster sister.

“C’mon, ya sloth!” Taylor whined. “I want food and they won’t let us eat unless we’re all there!”

“I’m coming!” Michael huffed, yanking his headband onto his forehead. “Get the hell outta my room, nerd!”

"Screw you!"

"Screw _you!"_ Michael snapped, slamming the door behind his brother. He sighed, tugging the letter out from under his pillow, smoothing out the creases carefully. He rested the paper back on his book, grabbing his pen and quickly scribbling the final part.

_-I just needed to get this out. Because I do love you. I love you more than anyone, and I have for the longest time. And I know that's not fair, because you're dating Christine and I know I've been avoiding you but... I do love you. And I just needed to get that out. I won't make it a big deal, and it's not like I'd ever tell you and mess up what you have with Christine. You're my friend first, crush second. Just know that I'll always be there for you. And I know you'll always be there for me. I mean, I hope. You're the best thing in my life, Jer. I don't ever want to mess that up. Sorry._

_Love, Michael._

He sighed, folding the letter perfectly in half. He took out a small, light blue envelope from his desk drawer, and carefully tucked the light pink paper inside, sticking the envelope shut with a little pac-man sticker. He darted to his closet and grabbed the Nintendo DS box from the top shelf, being careful not to jostle it. He opened the box and ran his fingers over the letters inside, as if he were familiarizing himself with the names. That thought alone was enough to make Michael laugh quietly. As if he could forget.

Dustin Kropp, sixth grade. They’d played Pokémon together during recess and their hands would brush when they reached for the cards, leaving Michael with tingles on his fingers for the rest of the day. Chloe Valentine dared Michael to kiss the prettiest person in the room one time and, naturally, he’d left a quick and nervous peck on Dustin’s cheek, which had led to years of bullying and questioning.

Jake Dillinger, eighth grade. Honestly, Michael suspected there wasn’t a single person who hadn’t immediately fallen for Jake Dillinger. He was tall, athletic, incredibly handsome, the kind of person everyone immediately fell in love with; teachers, students, you name it. Jake Dillinger had everyone’s respect. They’d been partnered for a science project one time and Michael had to spend five whole lessons trying desperately to not get distracted by his unfairly pretty face or counting the little golden flecks in his eyes. Much like the Dustin Kropp debacle, this particular crush had also come to an end because of a certain Miss Chloe Valentine. For some reason, Jake had decided to invite Michael to one of those middle school parties that was kind of a slumber party, kind of a movie night, not really a party. Chloe had decided to break out a game of spin-the-bottle, a very clear attempt at getting Jake to kiss her; _everyone_ knew they were going to be a thing. Perfect girl plus perfect boy equals perfect couple. Can’t argue with science. Anyways, during Michael’s turn, the bottle had landed on Jake, much to everyone’s distress; except Jake’s apparently. Michael had offered to spin again, which Chloe seemed all for, but Jake had just smiled and told him he didn’t mind. The kiss was just a quick peck on the lips that had led to a lot of blushing and a few unsavory rumors about Jake that had quickly been put to rest. Thankfully, Michael managed to get over the crush by the next week.

Jared Kleinman, summer camp. Bunk mate. Jared was charming, and cute, in a rat kind of way. The kind of guy who annoys you so much that you end up finding it endearing. He was funny, and he and Michael would share their marshmallows during the campfire singalongs. Sometimes, when it got really cold, Jared would barge into Michael's bunk and cuddle with him, which had led to a lot of sleepless nights on Michael's part. They’d pulled pranks on the other campers and smoked weed behind the mess hall, which had led to one drug induced and incredibly sloppy make out session. Long story short, they lost touch after camp ended and now Michael was left with the horrifying memory of Jared’s tongue smearing all over his face. In summary; gross.

Rich Goranski, homecoming. This one had been kind of weird, considering Rich had been kind of an asshole to both Michael and Jeremy for, well, ever. But they’d both been abandoned by their “dates” during homecoming; Michael had gone with Jeremy (as friends!) and he had immediately run off to awkwardly ask Christine to dance, which had led to a very successful and ongoing relationship that Michael definitely was not jealous about because these were his friends and he loved them and he was not jealous. Rich had come with Madeline, which was fairly self-explanatory. They’d ended up sitting together and having an actually nice talk. Rich was surprisingly chill without his popular friends, and Michael was all for it. So, when Rich asked him to dance, of course he accepted. It was fun but had led to a lot of confused staring in the middle of class, and a repeated debate of “he’s an asshole but he’s also cute but he’s also an asshole but he was also nice but he’s an _asshole-!”_ which had gradually come to a controlled stop by the end of sophomore year.

And now, Jeremy. Please see above letter for further explanation.

Michael sighed as he placed the letter in the box, closing it slowly. It felt wrong to have written Jeremy a letter. It was like admitting defeat. Admitting this silly crush was more than he could handle.

Still, it was good that he'd written it. Relieving, in a way. At least he could get all those silly feelings off his chest. It was a lot easier than carrying it around inside, waiting to blurt it all out like a balloon waiting to burst. Off his chest, onto the paper, and into the box. Out of sight, out of mind.

Almost.

Michael sighed as he propped the box back on its shelf. He shouldn't be feeling as relieved as he did. He loved Christine; ever since his mom’s had made the decision to foster her, she’d immediately become part of the family. She was always there, ready to listen. He could talk to her about anything.

He cast a small glance at the box on its shelf.

_Almost_ anything.

Still, he shouldn't be feeling so happy about this. With things between him and Jeremy still being so awkward, especially now that Jeremy was dating Christine, there was absolutely no way Michael would ever tell his friend how he felt. Honestly, it was selfish of him to even be fantasizing about it like this. To think Jeremy would ever read his letter and say “oh, Michael, I’ve been in love with you since forever, too!” and they’d run off into the sunset. Honestly, Michael didn’t want that. Jeremy and Christine deserved each other. They were happy together, and Michael was happy for them. Still, it didn’t make it sting any less whenever they hugged or kissed or held hands and that little ugly part stuffed in the back of Michael’s brain would growl “you should be doing that with me”.

It’s an ugly feeling. And maybe it’d go away if he could just talk about it or explain it to someone, but… His moms would probably tell Christine, Taylor was an twelve-year-old boy, there was absolutely no way he could tell Christine or Jeremy and currently, his only friend also happened to be terrible at keeping her mouth shut.

Michael winced. That was a mean thought. Jenna was a lot more than just the school’s gossip train; he’d learned that a long time ago. It was cruel to just limit her to that and nothing else. She was a good friend, kind and supportive with a dry sense of humor that Michael adored. They were truly platonic soulmates, and he was so lucky to have someone like her as a friend. Still, he didn’t exactly trust her with his life-ruining crush secrets. Not an offence to Jenna or anything; he just didn’t feel like he could trust _anyone_ with this stuff. And the only people he could trust with it were the exact people he could never tell.

He sighed one last time, closing the closet door. He didn’t have time to dwell on dumb crushes.

“Jeremy, my buddy!” He grinned as he bounced down the stairs.

“Hey, Mike!” Jeremy smiled from where he sat at the couch, his arm around Christine’s shoulders. Michael’s stomach flipped at his fond smile, holding out his hand for the Secret Best Friends Handshake of Awesomeness. Jeremy blinked, glancing at Michael’s hand to his face. He smiled awkwardly, shaking it. Michael tried not to sigh.

“I, uh.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I meant the-“

“Oh!” Jeremy squeaked adorably, making Michael’s heart do a little flip. “The handshake, I’m sorry! Here, lemme just get up-“

“Nah, we’re gonna eat soon, anyways. It’s chill.” Michael smiled. He decided to take a seat on the floor, near Nutmeg; there was no way he’d be able to stand sitting next to Jeremy and Christine all night. He had no doubt that they’d win cutest couple in the yearbook.

Nutmeg perked up her ears when he sat next to her, snuffling his cheek and giving him a quick lick. Michael smiled, pulling her into his lap so he could cuddle her. At least his dog still loved him.

“Okay!” Phoebe cheered as she waltzed into the living room. “Look who made moussaka!”

Jeremy’s face somehow got even paler.

“Is it supposed to be that black?” He whispered to Michael.

“Racist.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Jeremy, sweetie.” Nebiha smiled patiently. “Can you go get the knife from the kitchen?”

“Uh – of course, Mrs Mell!”

“Hey!” She chastised gently. “Mrs Mell is for when we’re old.”

“Yeah, you only use ‘Mrs Mell’ for mom two.” Michael smirked, expertly dodging the throw pillow Phoebe threw at him.

“Man.” Taylor sighed. “I hate this.”

Michael frowned. “I thought you liked seeing me in pain?”

“No, I do.” His brother nodded. “But this is the last time we’re gonna have a whole family meal together with Chrissy.”

All the Mells (plus one Canigula) winced in unison.

“Well, yeah. Until Christmas, at least.” Michael said quietly. “But we can still Skype you during dinner!”

“I mean…” Christine mumbled. “Time zones, and stuff. It’ll probably be breakfast time in Scotland when you guys have dinner.”

“Oh.” Michael frowned. “Well, we’ll have a… Brinner!”

“Or a dinfast!” Taylor grinned.

“Nope. Dinfast was mentioned in an episode of The Big Bang Theory, and we all remember the official Big Bang Theory Ban of twenty-sixteen.”

“Oh.” Taylor pouted. “Okay. Brinner, then.”

“The point is, we’ll try.” Nebiha smiled gently, taking a seat next to Christine and patting her hand. “You’re always going to be part of our family, and we’re always going to love you. And when you love someone, you make an effort for them.”

Christine let out a watery laugh, pulling her mother into a hug.

“Love you too, mom.”

“Hey, none of that!” Phoebe snapped. “No emotions on movie night!”

“Shut up and hug me.” Christine giggled, opening her arms wide for both mothers. Phoebe rolled her eyes, but eagerly obliged.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” She cooed. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. Okay!” She said quickly, pulling away. “Enough now. Time for movies.”

“You’re crying, mama.”

“Enough!” She snapped, swatting at Taylor’s face. “C’mon. No more sadness, let’s focus on the good things for now. We can save the sad times for leaving day.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Christine nodded gently. “Hey! With me being in Scotland, Michael can use the car more to practice!”

Taylor winced. “I forgot I’m riding with Michael now.”

“Feel free to take the bus.”

“What’re we talking about?” Jeremy asked as he padded back into the room.

“How bad a driver Michael is.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jeremy chuckled. “I remember when you used to drive me to school. God, that was terrifying.”

“I thought you liked our drives?” Michael frowned, trying to hide the small pang of hurt in his stomach. “We jammed to Marley and talked about video games.”

“Yeah, and that part was fun, but your driving still sucks, dude.” Jeremy teased, flopping back down next to Christine.

Michael sniffed, turning his head away dramatically. “Mean.”

“And besides, you guys can always catch a ride with me.” He smiled politely. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m still just down the street.”

“Jeremy, you hate driving.” Michael said simply. “The thought of it makes your little hummingbird heart explode.”

“True…” Jeremy mumbled. “But I’d do it for you guys!”

Be still, his beating heart.

“Or…” Taylor smirked. “I could drive, and then if we get in trouble, we could just switch places real fast!”

“Great idea, sweetie.” Nebiha smiled.

“I can drive perfectly fine, thank you!”

“He can’t.” Taylor said simply. “And we were also talking about how we’re not gonna see Christine ‘til Christmas, which I still hate, by the way.”

“Oh, about that!” Jeremy grinned, perking up visibly. Michael bit his lip furiously. Begone, gay thoughts. You are not needed today.

Jeremy turned to Christine excitedly, taking her hands. “I-I know you weren’t able to come home for Thanksgiving, so…” He pulled out a small paper slip from his pocket, and Michael felt his stomach drop. “I thought I’d bring home to you!”

Christine paled. “Oh…”

Jeremy smiled awkwardly, clearly thrown off by Christine’s lack of excitement. “It’s, um. I-It’s a plane ticket! I’m coming to Scotland.”

“Did…” Christine said quietly. “Did you already pay for this?”

“Yeah!” He nodded emphatically. “I had a Google alert set for flights as soon as you said you wanted to go to school there.”

“Well, look at Jeremy, stepping up!” Phoebe applauded. Nebiha grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her head.

“Jeremy…” Christine said quietly. Taylor and Michael shared a glance.

_“Mm!”_ Taylor said loudly, taking a big munch of his moussaka. “Just like grandma’s!”

Some explanation was probably necessary.

Jeremy and Christine had been dating for the past two years, but before Christine had even noticed Jeremy existed, he had been Michael’s boyfriend first. Well – boy who was a friend, that was. They could talk to each other about anything. They understood each other. Like, one time, they had a whole conversation about whether they’d rather drink water for the rest of their life, or drink whatever they wanted, but it had to have a drop of pee in it (both answers were obviously pee. There was no way Jeremy could give up Mountain Dew, and Michael could never give up his retro drinks). But when Jeremy started dating Christine, things were definitely different. They couldn’t talk about stuff anymore; nerd stuff, gross stuff, making fun of drunk girls on the internet (well, they did talk about gross stuff. Once. Jeremy’s answer had conveniently changed to water, and, well. Michael couldn’t exactly rat him out). They’d tried to keep Michael included; even on dates, which was… Awkward, to say the least. It wasn’t like he wanted to steal Christine’s boyfriend or anything! She deserved a nice guy like Jeremy, and he’d been dreaming of Christine for as long as Michael could remember. That was one of the reasons Michael had put off his letter for so long. He didn’t want to admit that the little ugly voice in his brain existed. It felt so cruel, to know that he was jealous, truly jealous, of the two people he loved most in the world. But he did write it; not for Jeremy, just for him. To come to terms with how he felt. To understand it better.

But really, he supposed it was mainly because of how Michael would sometimes imagine what would’ve happened if he’d admitted his feelings sooner.

“- making me look like the bad guy!”

“Do you realize how hard it was for me to do that in front of them?!”

“I never told you to invite yourself to Scotland in front of my whole family!”

Michael grimaced, closing his window as quietly as he could. He hadn’t wanted to spy on their fight, but… He hated not knowing important things, and, well. This was about as important a thing there could be. Besides, they were arguing on the front porch, which was just around the corner and up some stairs from Michael’s room in the basement. How could he not hear them?

He sighed, casting a glance to his closet. His letters were his most treasured, most secret possessions. He only wrote one when he had a crush so intense that he didn’t know what else to do. He liked re-reading his old letters; it was nice to remind himself of how fleeting and silly these feelings felt, looking back on them. And he liked to be reminded of how strong his emotions were. How strong he was. Taylor would say he was being dramatic, but Christine always said that a little drama made life better.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Just as long as no one else knew about it.

Michael yelped, spinning in his chair to see Christine standing in his doorway. “Oh, uh – nothing, sorry.” He frowned at her puffy eyes, the tear tracks crawling down her cheeks. “You okay?”

She sighed, walking down the basement stairs and collapsing on Michael’s worn out couch.

“Your rooms a mess.” She said quietly.

“I’m gonna clean it up soon.” Michael protested half-heartedly, fiddling with his headband. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Christine rubbed at her eyes, grabbing Michael’s Pikachu plush and hugging it to her chest.

“I broke up with Jeremy.”

“What?!” Michael gasped, leaving his desk to perch on the armrest. “Why would you do that?!”

“Phoebe told me to never go to college with a boyfriend.” Christine mumbled. “I thought she was just being Phoebe. But then Nebiha agreed and, well… We all know she’s the sensible one.”

“But that was before you even started dating Jeremy!” Michael protested. “They love him, he’s one of the nicest guys ever, you said so yourself!”

“I know.” She sighed. “But I’m gonna be in Scotland and he’ll be all the way back here – we’re gonna be in two different worlds, Michael…” She whined in the back of her throat, burying her face in Pikachu’s fur. “I don’t wanna talk about it! Or – I do, but – I don’t know…” She groaned.

“Christine…” Michael said quietly. “You _love_ him.”

“I know.”

Michael chewed on the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“… You think you’ll ever change your mind?”

“No.” She said firmly. “Never.”

She set Pikachu down, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“When I was packing for college, the moms made me make a box of things for them to take to Goodwill. I think you should too.”

“Um.” Michael blinked. “I don’t… Really have anything to part with right now-“

“Michael.” Christine said firmly. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Meaning from now on, you’re the older sibling. You need to set a good example for Tay. And that means no more weed, no gorging food before bed, and cleaning your room.”

“Jeez, when did we get a third mom?”

“I’m serious.” She got to her feet, planting her hands on Michael’s knees so she was leaning on him entirely. “Please? Do this for me? Your sad big sister, going through a very hard time right now?”

Michael tipped his head back and groaned loudly.

_“Fiiine!”_ He huffed, getting up to hug her properly. “Only because I love you.”

“Love you too, Mikey.” She smiled, squeezing him tight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Michael swallowed heavily, refusing to let go just yet. “Did you have to pick the furthest college you could think of?”

Christine sighed. “Michael-“

“I know, I know, I’m being selfish, but-“ He wiped his eyes harshly. “Who am I supposed to eat lunch with now? Who am I supposed to rant about dumb shit with? Who’s gonna rant to me about musicals once I’m done ranting about my dumb shit?”

“Language.” She chastised gently. “And as for the other stuff… Maybe you could use this as an opportunity to branch out a little. Make some new friends?“

“No.” Michael said firmly, before she’d even finished.

“You never know what could happen!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Chris.”

She sighed, cuddling into his shoulder. “I’ll only be a Skype call away.”

“Yeah.” Michael scoffed. “Until you start going to pubs and eating haggis with your Scottish friends and forgetting about us.”

“Michael-“

“I know, I’m sorry!” He huffed. “Being selfish.”

“Michael.” She said gently, holding his cheeks. “Selfish people never admit they’re selfish. And besides, I can promise you that I will never, _ever_ , eat haggis.”

He chuckled brokenly, squeezing her tight.

“… I’m gonna miss you, Chrissy.”

She pulled away, tugging his head down so she could kiss his forehead.

“You too, Mikey.”

oOo

Christine frowned at the mix CD in her hands.

“… Mell Jams?”

“Tay chose the name.” Michael sighed, swatting at the boy as he stomped on his foot. “Just stick with it. It’s the family’s greatest hits.”

“Michael did the mixing.” Nebiha smiled proudly, trying to mask the tears that were already falling past her glasses. “I think you’ll really like it.”

Christine smiled sadly, opening her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the final announcement for her terminal.

“I’d… Better get going.” She said quietly, taking a step back.

“Not so fast!” Phoebe huffed, pulling her into a tight hug. “Don’t you forget about us, okay?”

“Never could, mom.” Christine giggled waterily. “Never could.”

Taylor hiccupped, forcing his way into the hug. Nebiha and Michael followed, fighting tears as they squeezed Christine as tightly as possible. Like if they held her tight enough, they’d be able to keep her, just for a few more seconds.

“Okay, I really gotta go now.” She smiled, rubbing her face harshly. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“Bye, Chrissy.” Michael said quietly, looking firmly at the floor. Christine rolled her eyes, pulling him into one last hug and kissing both his cheeks.

“Bye, Mikey.” She smiled finally, before turning and walking to the terminal.

“Think she’ll look back?” Taylor asked quietly.

“Nah.” Phoebe said quickly, like if she spoke any slower, all her sobs would escape. “That’s not Christine.”

“Yeah.” Michael muttered as she disappeared into the tunnel, voice cracking ever so slightly. “She’s too strong for that.”

“… Can we get another dog now?”

“Nice try.”


	2. Jake Dillinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Promise me you won’t kill anyone?” Jake smirked, relishing in Michael’s annoyance.
> 
> “I swear to God, I will rip out this steering wheel and beat you with it.”
> 
> “Okay, I’m just gonna take that as a no.” Jake chuckled. “And I’m gonna say that you,” he smiled, pointing at Taylor. “Are officially in charge. Stay safe, Mell!”
> 
> “Up yours, Dillinger!” Michael snapped, rolling the window up. “Asshole…”
> 
> “Who was that?” Taylor grinned from the passenger seat.
> 
> Michael sighed, relaxing his grip on the wheel.
> 
> “That was Jake Dillinger.”

“Well, isn’t this exciting!” Nebiha smiled as she placed two steaming plates of scrambled eggs in front of the two boys. “Sixth grade and junior year!”

Taylor grimaced, poking at his eggs with his fork. “I don’t feel like eating.”

Nebiha huffed, folding her arms. “Could you have told me that before I cooked them, Tay-Tay?”

“Here.” Michael said quietly, scraping Taylor's eggs onto his own plate. “I’m always too hungry, anyways.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, I’m heading out.” Nebiha announced, wrapping her headscarf over her head. “Phoebe, make sure you get some pictures of them!”

Both boys groaned.

“Suck it up!” Phoebe snapped. “We’re gonna take pictures and you’re gonna look adorable and we’re gonna shove it in that smug bitch Carry Alderman’s face.”

“Please stop with that.” Taylor whined. “Her daughter’s in my class, we’re friends!”

“Of course you are, sweetie!” Phoebe smiled, sickly sweet. “But out of the two of you, you are the cutest, and I’m going to make sure Mrs Alderman knows that.”

Taylor groaned.

“This reminds me of the Henry Morgenthau crisis of twenty-fifteen.” Michael sighed, chewing on his eggs.

“I still think you should’ve been class rep instead.”

“It was four years ago, let it _go!”_

After finishing his eggs, wasting seven minutes for Phoebe to find the “perfect angle” to take their beginning of year photos and putting on some painfully fake smiles, they piled into the car and pulled out of the drive.

Taylor frowned as they began driving to school. “Aren’t we picking up Jeremy?”

Michael winced, quickly turning on the radio. “I don’t think he’ll want to talk to us right now. Marley?”

“Always. Oh, wait!” Taylor turned in his seat, grabbing his bag and pulling out a bulky bicycle helmet.

“Very funny.”

“Very necessary. Turn the music on, butt-munch.”

oOo

Michael was walking through the hallway, trying desperately to ignore the huge red alert warning going off in his brain.

Jeremy was at his locker. His locker was a solid two meters away from where Michael was walking, getting closer by the second. The question: should Michael wave, or ignore?

Waving felt like the obvious choice. He and Jeremy were best friends – or at least, they pretended to be. And besides, he liked Jeremy, in a whole variety of ways, and the poor guy had just been dumped. It was only right to wave.

However, the aforementioned dumping had also involved Christine, who was family. And when a family member breaks up, ends a friendship, or has a big argument with someone, it was sworn family duty to completely ignore said someone.

So, which rule won? Defending family, or comforting your friend?

Jeremy looked up. Fuck. They’d made eye contact. What was he supposed to do?!

Michael flinched, keeping his eyes on the floor. As he walked past, he noticed Jeremy wilt and turn back to his locker. Double fuck. He swallowed, hard, turned on his heel and waved his hands over his head. Jeremy snorted, shooting him a small wave back. Michael grinned, turning around and immediately knocking into someone.

“Ah!” A familiarly shrill voice cried. “Watch it!”

“Oh my god!” Michael squeaked. “Uh, sorry, Chloe!”

“Oh, it’s you.” She growled, making Michael cringe.

Ah, Chloe Valentine. The all mighty. A while ago, they had been sort of friends, but after the Dustin Kropp incident _and_ the much worse Jake Dillinger incident, their “friendship” had come to a very sudden end.

“Cute bracelet.” She sneered, giving him the up-down glance that Michael despised. “You know there’s a line between quirky and straight up gay, right?”

“Is there really such thing as a ‘straight up gay’?” A smooth voice came from behind. Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

Jenna, his saviour, truly one of the few good people left at Middleborough. During middle school and most of high school, she’d mostly been the school gossip train, trailing after the cool kids in a desperate attempt to be accepted by them. She and Michael met hiding under the bleachers during pep rally; Jenna, to get away from the cool kids hounding her for information, and Michael, to get away from noise and totally not because he couldn’t bare to watch Jeremy and Christine cuddling and being adorable together for one second longer. Long story short, they hit it off, Jenna bid the cool kids goodbye (for the most part), and now she and Michael lived happily ever after hiding under the bleachers.

“Besides,” She smiled, wrapping an arm over Michael’s shoulders. “Shouldn’t the dope pride patch be enough of a hint? Or could you not see that? Ever thought you might need glasses, Chlo?”

Chloe flushed indignantly. “Fuck off, Rolan, this has nothing to do with you!”

“Whoa, cool it, babe!”

Remember Jake? Second letter Jake? Awkward middle school spin the bottle kiss Jake?

This was him. Chloe’s Jake.

He chuckled, flashing that million dollar smile. Michael narrowed his eyes. Of all the people, how could he have _ever_ gotten a crush on Jake Dillinger?

“Hi, sweetie!” Chloe purred, latching onto him immediately and pressing her lips to his cheek, leaving an imprint of sticky gloss behind. “I was just complimenting Michael on his women’s bracelet. Such a bold statement, don’t you think?”

“Totally!” Jake smiled, though it seemed a lot more genuine than Chloe’s. “Hey, there’s Brooke! Should we go say hi?”

Chloe sighed dramatically. “I guess we have to.”

As Chloe dragged her boyfriend into the crowd, Michael nudged Jenna with his shoulder.

“Thanks.” He grinned. “Really think my pride patch is dope?”

“It ruins the vibe if you ask.” Jenna shrugged. “But yeah, it’s pretty dope. And your bracelet, too.”

“Made it myself.”

“Figured.” She smirked. “So, dish with me; you think Chloe makes Jake wear a collar when they bone?”

“Dude!”

“Tell me he isn’t the bitch in the relationship, Mell, say it to my _face!”_

oOo

“This seat taken?”

Michael jumped, looking up from his seat behind the bleachers.

“Jeremy!” He yelped. “Uh – hey, man!”

“Hey!” Jeremy smiled awkwardly. “So, uh…” He gestured to the space next to him. “Taken?”

“Oh…” Michael frowned. “Uh, yeah.”

“Oh.” Jeremy mumbled, hunching his shoulders. “Oh, uh… Sorry…”

“By you, dumbass.” Michael scoffed, grabbing his sleeve. “C’mon. Pop a squat.”

“Don’t say pop a squat.” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes, though he still looked grateful. He took a seat next to Michael on the floor. “So...” He said quietly. “Did – Did she say anything to you? About, um…”

Michael tried not to sigh. Of course Jeremy only sought him out to talk about Christine.

“She didn’t.” He said gently. “I would’ve told you if she did. You know I would’ve.”

“No, I-I know!” Jeremy said quickly. “I just – sorry. I just figured, y’know, considering…”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know.”

They sat there in silence for a moment, Michael sipping his slushy and Jeremy fiddling with his sleeves.

“We’re, um.” Jeremy said quietly. “We’re still cool, right? W-We can still hang out, and… And kick it, and stuff, right?”

“Don’t say kick it.” Michael smirked, shoving his shoulder. “You want some gummy worms?”

“Hell yes!” Jeremy grinned, taking a fistful and shoving them into his mouth.

“Gross.”

“Shut up.” Jeremy huffed around his gummy worms. “Did she, um…” He swallowed heavily. “Did she talk about me? After it happened?”

Michael fought a groan. He should’ve known things wouldn’t go back to normal so easily.

“I dunno, I guess?” He sighed, rubbing his headband like he did when he felt himself breaking. “She told me you broke up.”

“And that was it?”

“Is this the only reason you wanted to talk to me?!” Michael snapped, making Jeremy jolt.

“N-No!” He yelped. “Of course not, I just – I was just- “

“Yeah.” Michael sighed, getting to his feet. “I know.”

“Michael-!”

“Relax, Jer.” Michael said quietly, slipping his headphones over his head. “We’re cool.”

“Um.” Jeremy fumbled on his feet anxiously. “Are – Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We’re cool. I gotta go to class.”

“Oh. W-Well, uh – bye?”

“Bye.”

So things weren’t entirely back to normal. That was fine. Sort of. It was dumb to think it would’ve been that easy, especially given what had just happened. What Michael felt.

He knew what it sounded like; him trying to get close to Jeremy again so soon after Christine left. But he knew Jeremy didn’t feel the same way. And besides; he could never do that Christine.

Michael sighed, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of his locker. He couldn’t wait for things to go back to normal.

oOo

“So,” He said as he and Taylor slipped into the car. “How was your first day? Boring? Tiring? Wish you’d just stayed in bed and never woken up?”

“It was _awesome!”_ Taylor grinned as he strapped on his helmet. “The middle school cafeteria is _huge!_ Cyrus wanted to sit next to me, but so did Enrico, but so did Kai, so we made this rotating system so I could sit with everyone! You know?”

“Oh, yeah.” Michael said as he turned the keys, dripping sarcasm. “I totally relate to that.”

“You do?”

“Yup.” He huffed, slamming his foot on the pedal and _shit._

“Whoa!” Taylor yelped as the car lurched backwards.

“Shit! Oh my god, are you okay?!” Michael gasped, his brotherly instinct kicking in almost immediately. He whirled around to see if they’d hit anything and-

“Fuck.” He whispered as he met Jake Dillinger’s hazel eyes out the back window.

“Good thing I was wearing my helmet.” Taylor grinned. A hand rapped on the window, making them both jump.

“Um.” Michael mumbled, rolling down the window. “Hi?”

“Hi!” Jake smiled amusedly, hazel eyes twinkling.

_Science class, hands brushing, laughing at jokes, spin the bottle, kiss, kiss, kiss-_

Michael clenched the wheel tightly.

“… How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Good.” Jake smirked. “Y’know people usually check their mirrors when they reverse, right? To not kill people? That’s a thing we do.”

“W-Well, um.” Michael mumbled. “I-I’m just not, uh, _comfortable_ using my mirrors yet, so- “

“Yeah, clearly.” Jake chuckled. Michael wanted to punch him. “You good to make it out of the parking lot?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

 _“Yes.”_ Michael growled firmly, gripping the steering wheel tight. “Now could you please leave us alone?”

“Promise me you won’t kill anyone?” Jake smirked, relishing in Michael’s annoyance.

“I swear to God, I will rip out this steering wheel and beat you with it.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna take that as a no.” Jake chuckled. “And I’m gonna say that you,” he smiled, pointing at Taylor. “Are officially in charge. Stay safe, Mell!”

“Up yours, Dillinger!” Michael snapped, rolling the window up. “Asshole…”

“Who was that?” Taylor grinned from the passenger seat.

Michael sighed, relaxing his grip on the wheel.

“That was Jake Dillinger.”

oOo

“I hate this.” Taylor huffed, tossing popcorn at the TV.

“What?” Michael frowned. “Shut up, no you don’t. You love Overwatch.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He mumbled stubbornly, curling his blanket over his shoulders. “I hate not having Christine here.”

“Yeah?” Michael sighed, rolling a kernel of popcorn between his thumb and forefinger. “Me too.”

“And Jeremy.”

“Double me too.”

“I miss his McCree impression.”

 _“Move ‘em up, get ‘em out_!” Michael drawled in what he hoped was a good Western voice. Taylor wrinkled his nose.

“Ew.”

 _“Watch yourself.”_ Michael growled in his terrible McCree impression, tossing popcorn at him. “C’mon, your turn.”

Taylor sighed, switching his character to Tracer.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of depressing,” He murmured as he shot at a few players. “That it’s a Saturday night, and you’re here playing Overwatch with your little brother?”

“No way.” Michael scoffed. “I like Overwatch. I mean, it’s no Final Fantasy, but it’s fun, and Soldier 76 is the _ultimate_ daddy. ‘Sides, I like hanging out with you.”

Taylor quit the game, setting down his controller.

“Look, Mike.” He said quietly. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. But, Michael… I’m _twelve_ , and I hate to cancel plans to hang out with you. And you… You’re sixteen, and this is your weekend routine. Play video games and eat junk food with your little brother. That’s… That’s not good, Michael.”

Michael frowned, taking the controller from him.

“I-I do other stuff, too- “

“Smoking weed doesn’t count, Mike.”

He sighed, collapsing onto the pulled out couch.

“Why do you have to be the mature one?” He huffed. “You’re just a kid.”

“The truth hurts, bro.” Taylor smiled gently. “Maybe if you had a boyfriend- “

“Don’t you _dare-!”_

“You could spend time with him!” Taylor said quickly. “And you wouldn’t have to go out anywhere cause if he really liked you he’d just come here and visit! And then you wouldn’t be by yourself, and you wouldn’t have to drive cause he would take you places!”

“Is that why you want me to get a boyfriend?” Michael scoffed, shoving his face away. “So I won’t have to drive anymore?”

“It’s not the _only_ reason…” Taylor muttered, making Michael chuckle and shove him with his foot.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, Tay-Tay.”

“There has to be someone.” Taylor huffed, crawling over to cuddle into Michael’s hoodie. “What about that guy you almost killed on the first day?”

“Jake?” Michael snorted. “No way. He’s popular, and I’m me. We’re not exactly in the same circle.”

“You could be.” Taylor reasoned. “If you tried to get out there a little.”

“He’s dating someone, Tay. And besides, he’s a total asshole!”

“Anyone else?” Taylor whined. “C’mon, there has to be _someone_ you want to spend your life with!”

Michael’s stomach flipped as he glanced at his closet.

“No.” He said firmly. “No one. I’m gonna go get some chips from upstairs, you want any?”

“Sunbites, please.”

Michael hopped up the stairs to the kitchen, giving Nutmeg a quick pat on the head because she was a good girl and she deserved it. He furrowed his brow once he saw his reflection in the mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get a boyfriend. Or a friend, at least. Get out of the house a little more. It might make him clean his face more often. Or take a shower. God, when had he last taken a shower?

He shook his head frantically. What was he thinking? He didn’t need a boyfriend. Another friend, maybe; Jenna was great, but they had very different schedules, especially on weekends when she’d be chilling with the cool kids. And Jeremy was definitely out of the question at this point.

Okay, no. Save those thoughts for another day. What was important now was getting the chips.

“Gotcha the ‘bites!” He announced cheerfully as he bounded down the stairs. He rose an eyebrow once he got to where Taylor was sitting on the couch. “Why’s your face all red?”

“Nothing!” He all but shrieked. “Nothing, no reason, I wasn’t doing anything!”

Michael frowned, noticing Taylor’s flushed face, the backpack he was hugging over his lap, and Michael’s laptop sitting nearby on the bed.

“… Taylor William Mell, if you looked up porn on my laptop, so help me God-!”

“What?! No!” Taylor yelped, throwing a pillow at his brother’s head. “I wasn’t doing that, why would I do that?!”

“I know that look!” Michael snapped. “The shame in your eyes, the way you keep looking at the ground! That is guilt, regret, and a little bit of satisfaction! I’m a gay kid with no friends, I invented that look!”

“I did _not-!”_

“Look, I know you must be having a lot of hormonal stuff right now, but my laptop is off limits! What if you’d gotten a virus, huh?!“

“Michael!”

“And don’t believe everything you see on the internet, trust me, no one has boobs that big or is that hung- “

“Enough!” Taylor screeched. “I wasn’t doing any of that, just-! Screw you, I’m going to bed!”

He raced out of the room, clutching his backpack and slamming the door behind him. Michael sighed, shaking his head. Ah, youth.

Wait. He frowned at the corner of his room.

Since when had he left his closet door open?

oOo

“So what’d you get up to last night?” Michael asked as he and Jenna tried to keep up with the rest of their PE group. He hated running laps, especially in this weather. His body was frozen, and yet, he was sweating through his headband.

“Netflix, bro.” She panted. “Also, I found out Lindsey Quinn did coke out of her ex boyfriend’s belly button last night.”

“Damn, Jenna! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

“I thought you cared about my Netflix endeavours?” Jenna gasped in mock outrage.

“Fine, fine.” Michael chuckled. “Whatcha bingin’ these days?”

“Well- “

“Hey!”

Both slowed in their jogging as Jake Dillinger ran up behind them.

“What’re you doing here?” Michael growled, glaring at him icily. Jake rose an eyebrow.

“Hey, Jake!” Jenna greeted. “Heard Chloe dumped you for a college guy, that true?”

“Hey, Jenna, heard you have a tail and poison spines in your ankles, is that true?” Jake countered, smiling politely.

“Oh yeah. And fangs. I’m like a snake.”

“Okay, well… I need to talk to Michael.” He glanced at Jenna from the corner of his eye. “Alone.”

The three of them slowed to a stop, two doubled over and panting heavily, one barely even sweating. Michael doubted he needed to point out which was which.

“Well,” Jenna wheezed, stretching her arms over her head. “If you need me, I will be in the nurse’s office trying not to pass out.”

“Stay cool, Jen!” Michael grinned, shooting her a finger gun. He turned to Jake with narrowed eyes. “What do you want?”

“Jesus, you send mixed signals.” Jake huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I just wanted to say… I’m really flattered, and I really appreciate it, but… It’s never gonna happen.”

Michael blanked, the wires in his head sparking with confusion.

“Um.” He frowned, cocking his head. “Sorry, what?”

Jake blinked at him in confusion.

“Uh…” He drawled, continuing with his explanation. “Look, from what I remember about that kiss, it – it was hot, yeah, for eighth grade, and I think it’s really cool how you think I have, uhh…” He pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket, scanning over the words. “Little golden flecks in my eyes? That’s real poetic, dude, I appreciate it. But me and Chloe like, _just_ broke up, and- “

He knew that paper. He knew those words.

That was his paper.

Those were his words.

_That was his letter._

How did Jake have it? _Why_ did Jake have it?! Michael never sent it, he hid them all away, there was no way his family would’ve sent them, were there more, had all the other letters been sent out too, what was happening, how was this happening, _why_ was this happening, Dustin Kropp, sixth grade, Jake Dillinger, eighth grade, Jared Kleinman, camp, Rich Goranski, homecoming, Jeremy, Jeremy, _Jeremy-!_

“Whoa, hey…”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Are you okay?”

Who was talking? Where were the words coming from?

“Dude – Mell, talk to me- “

Words, words, words-

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

Words, letters, _his letters-_

“Just – just try to breathe, okay, it’s gonna be fine!”

Too much, too much, _he can’t breathe-!_

“Michael!”

As the world slipped away, Jake’s voice faded out of existence and his body went numb, Michael could only think of one thing. One single, mind numbing, bone chilling thought.

_The letters were out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taylor’s a tracer main what did you expect


	3. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if you didn’t tell him?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Heere. What if you didn’t tell him? Or anyone, for that matter?”
> 
> “I repeat, what?” Michael frowned, crossing his arms. “Why would I do that? It’d make everything so awkward between us!”
> 
> “No, no, it won’t.” Jake grinned mischievously. “In fact, it’ll make it way less awkward.”
> 
> Michael rose an eyebrow. “I’m interested…”
> 
> “What if we let people think we were actually together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yknow updating on mondays was a really bad decision i have like five minutes until i have to go to school

“Michael? Michael!”

He gasped, jolting upright and smacking his forehead into something very hard and very painful.

“Ah!” He yelped, as did the person above him.

“Dude!” Jake whined, rubbing his forehead. “Mean!”

“What…” Michael panted heavily, clutching his chest. “W-What happened?”

“Uh.” Jake blanked. “You fainted?”

“Oh.” Michael whispered, leaning back onto the running track. “Okay.”

Jake sighed, smiling at him reassuringly. “Okay, grab my hands. C’mon, here we go…”

He pulled Michael to his feet, supporting him with one hand on his waist and another on his elbow, keeping him steady as he swayed on his feet.

“You okay?” He said patiently, genuine concern in his eyes. Michael frowned, peering up at him from beneath his lashes. Why would Jake be concerned for him? As far as he knew, Michael was just some loser who’d confessed to him with a three year old letter. He should be repulsed.

“Yeah.” Michael said quietly. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Jake chuckled. “I was worried you were gonna die on me there, Mell, I mean…”

His words quickly turned to white noise in Michael’s brain as he lost focus on what Jake was saying. Because over Jake’s shoulder, exactly in Michael’s line of vision, was quite possibly the worst thing in the world.

Jeremy Heere, clad in his soft blue hoodie, hair a mess, cute as can be, holding a letter.

Not just any letter.

_His letter._

“Oh no.” He whispered in horror as they made eye contact.

“Oh no?” Jake frowned. “Oh no what? Are you fainting again?”

He was coming this way.

“Shit.”

“Michael?”

Jake. Jeremy. Both were crushes, both had letters, both had played a role in many of Michael’s kissing fantasies-

_Oh._

“Okay.” He said firmly, grabbing Jake’s face in his hands. “This is happening.”

“What? What is-?!“

He was cut off by Michael desperately pressing their lips together.

Jake froze against him, going rigid, allowing Michael to take full control and press them together gently – he didn’t want to go too far and overstep any boundaries but, then again, they were pretty far past boundaries at this point. He didn’t move his lips, he _definitely_ didn’t use tongue – it was a glorified grandma kiss. A convincing fake, but obviously a decoy to anyone involved in the kiss.

He cracked an eye open, watching Jeremy awkwardly turn on his heel and march away. Thank Jesus.

As soon as Jeremy disappeared around the corner, he shoved Jake off of him, wiping his mouth. Jake gasped, his eyes fluttering open as he tentatively rose his fingers to his lips.

“You…” He mumbled, looking at Michael with wide eyes. “Y-You- “

“Gottagoseeyalaterbye!”

“Hey – wait!”

Michael was already sprinting into the school building, ignoring Jake’s cries and the yelling of his PE coach. Angry teachers and old crushes could wait. A mental breakdown was impending and Michael did _not_ want to be crying in the gym bathrooms. Not today.

He burst into the bathrooms, splashing water into his face and trying desperately to calm his nerves.

They were out. The letters were out. This was a whole new coming out, what the fuck, he thought he’d only have to do this shit once-

“Michael?”

He shrieked, tossing some water over his shoulder.

“Dude!” Rich Goranski yelped. “Not cool!”

“Oh my god!” Michael squeaked. “I’m – I am so sorry, I wasn’t- “

“Whoa, whoa, relax.” Rich said patiently, putting a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You good, man? You look all panicky.”

Michael sighed, deflating visibly. “That’s a… Valid statement.”

Rich winced, patting his shoulder in an attempt at reassurance. “Sorry, dude. Can’t imagine this has been an easy day for you.”

Michael froze at the knowing look Rich gave him. “You – you know-“

“That all your love letters got loose?” Rich smirked, pulling a pastel yellow envelope from his pocket. “Oh yeah. I saw this at my place and thought you were just being cute, but then I had drama studies with Heere. Uh – don’t worry, though. He wasn’t showing it to anyone or anything, it just fell out of his bag at one point. I figured you wouldn’t’ve sent two love letters at the same time. No one’s that much of a player.”

Michael stiffened, suddenly reminded of strobe lights, awful pop music, and Rich’s very prominent hips.

“I – I didn’t- “

“Homecoming, right?” He smirked. “Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you. My moves were pretty sick.”

Michael braced himself for the oncoming slurs, punches, and various other forms of torture.

“Look, um…” Rich mumbled, shifting on his feet awkwardly. “I had a lot of fun with you that night. And I actually wanted to thank you.”

Michael blinked once, twice, confusion evident in his eyes. “Uh. What?”

“For helping me.” Rich shrugged. “To, uh… Realize I’m bi?”

Well. That was something.

“I-I haven’t told everyone yet.” He said quickly. “And I – I don’t really want to. Not right now. It’s why I haven’t been hanging with Jake and Chloe a lot lately.”

Come to think of it, Michael hadn’t seen Rich hanging with the popular kids at all since they’d come back to school.

“I’m kinda laying low right now.” Rich shrugged. “And I like it like that. But then I got your letter, and, well… I don’t know what you’re going through, but I know that the thought of everyone finding out my whole bi thing scares the crap outta me. So I figured I kinda owed it to you to not let anyone find out. Bi dude to gay dude.”

“Wow.” Michael mumbled, smiling gently. “Thanks, dude.”

“No problem.” Rich grinned. “’Sides, from what I read, I guess we both helped each other figure stuff out.” He smirked, tapping the letter. “So I guess we’ve gotta stick together.”

“Solidarity.” Michael nodded. “Seriously, thank you. A-And I really don’t like you like that, not anymore.”

“I know.” Rich chuckled. “And I also know there was no way you would’ve sent that. I may not know a lot about you, but I definitely know you’d never let anyone see you vulnerable.”

Right again. Rich was really on fire today.

“Thanks.” Michael smiled gratefully, taking the letter and placing it carefully in the pocket of his PE shorts. “I really appreciate it. I’m having kind of a crappy day.”

“Hard same, dude.” Rich groaned, leaning against the sinks. “And now some crazy nerd just threw water at my face, its’ a real mess- “

“Ha, ha.” Michael scoffed. “Bells about to ring. I’d better get my shit from PE.”

“Good luck to you, my dude.” Rich grinned, shooting him a little salute. “Might wanna go around the back exit if you wanna avoid people, though.”

“I never thought I’d say this but Rich Goranski, you are a life saver.”

“No problemo, my dude.” Rich grinned, shooting him some fingerguns. “See ya on the flip!”

As he exited the bathroom door, Michael couldn’t help but wonder to himself…

How the _fuck_ hadn’t he realized Rich was bi?

oOo

The moment Michael got home, he raced down the stairs to his bedroom, burst into his closet and _shit._

The Nintendo DS box was gone.

“Mom?!” He yelled, almost tripping up the stairs. “Did you see my Nintendo box anywhere?! It’s white, it’s got a picture of the DS and that Super Mario Bros game it came with on it?!”

“Whoa, no ‘hi mom’, no ‘you’re home early, mom’, no ‘congratulations on saving people’s lives, mom’?” Nebiha scoffed.

“It’s urgent!”” Michael cried. “I-I have important stuff in there and I need it!”

“I’m sorry, honey, I really don’t know.” Nebiha shrugged. “Maybe it got taken with the Goodwill boxes?”

“The…“ Michael gasped, as if he’d been punched in the gut. _“The Goodwill boxes?”_

Oh no. No no no no _no_. He’d never get the letters back now. What was he supposed to do, break into Goodwill and beg the employees to give him his boxes back?! That’d make him look even more insane!

“You got some mail, by the way.” Phoebe said as she walked through the dining room, slapping an envelope into Michael’s chest.

It was addressed to camp. To Jared Kleinman.

“I hate everything!” Michael declared, running back down to the basement.

Okay. The letters were out. There was nothing he could do about it. Silver lining; Jared’s letter was addressed to camp and Dustin Kropp never cared about anything, so Jared would ever know how hard Michael was crushing on him during that game of Chubby Bunny, and Dustin would never tell anyone about how sixth grade Michael used to dream of being a Pokémon Trainer with him.

 _Just calm down_. That’s what Jeremy would say if he were here right now. He’d rub Michael’s back and tell him to breathe, hug him close and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Except he would never do that now. Because now he knew Michael was in love with him.

No. Not love, present tense. Loved. Past tense. He was Christine’s. Michael couldn’t still love him. He wasn’t allowed to.

_I’ve been in love with you since that sleepover we had in middle school…_

_I loved you first…._

_I can’t stop loving you, Jer._

_I’ve tried._

“What are you doing?”

Michael jolted, turning to see Taylor hovering in the doorway.

“Nothing.” He said quickly. “You?”

“Nothing.” Taylor replied, equally as fast. “You look scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Michael!” Phoebe called from upstairs. “Jeremy’s here to see you!”

He was scared.

“You never saw me.” He hissed, darting out of the back door. Perks of living in the basement; he always had an escape route.

“Michael, wait-!”

Too late. He was already darting into the garage, grabbing his bike and cycling to the nearest Seven-Eleven.

By God, did he need a slushy right now.

oOo

“One slushy, coming right up.”

“Thanks, Zo.”

He tipped his slushy back and chugged it, praying to God that the oncoming brain freeze would distract him from all the terrible thoughts in his head. He slammed his half empty cup on the counter, wiping his mouth and wincing as he clutched his forehead.

Never mind. Brain freezes sucked butt.

“Yo, Mell.”

Of course.

Michael tipped his head back and groaned, turning slowly on his stool.

“What do you want, Dillinger?”

“My God, you send mixed signals.” He smirked, the bastard. “I’m just here for a slushy.”

“It’s too cold for slushies.”

“You have one.”

“My body is beyond your simple mortal rules, coward.”

Jake chuckled, taking his slushy from over the counter.

“Thanks, uh…” He checked her tag. “Zoe.”

The clerk looked him up and down icily.

“Knock the counter twice if you need help.” She whispered to Michael before going to stock the shelves.

Jake tapped his fingers on the counter awkwardly. “She seems nice.”

“What do you _want_ , Jake?” Michael growled, tucking his chin on his folded arms.

“I just want to make things absolutely clear.” Jake said simply. “I’m flattered, I truly am, but me and Chloe just broke up and I don’t feel comfortable-“

“Are you rejecting me right now?” Michael huffed, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

“I mean, it didn’t really take the first time-“

“Jake, please believe me when I say this.” Michael sighed, fixing him with an unimpressed stare. “I am _not_ in love with you.”

“Okay, well your mouth is saying one thing, but then your, uh…” He cleared his throat, blushing faintly. “ _Mouth_ , said something different on the running track.”

“Look.” Michael said firmly. “I don’t like you – not like that, not anymore. I did, in eighth grade, but I don’t now. I just had to make it look like I did so someone else wouldn’t think I liked them. Happy?”

“Okay…” Jake hummed, swirling his slushy. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who’s the guy? Otherwise I’m just gonna think you made up this whole story to justify jumping me.”

Michael growled, clenching his fist around his slushy so hard it might burst.

“I hate you.” He snapped. “And I don’t have to tell you anything. It’s none of your business.”

“Fine.” Jake shrugged. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind me telling everyone at school that you sent me a love letter and jumped me on the track and-“

“Jeremy Heere!” Michael blurted. “I… I like Jeremy Heere.”

“Heere?” Jake frowned. “Isn’t he dating your sister?”

“He was. Was dating her. Past tense.” Michael corrected, fiddling with the band in his hair. “A-And he got a letter too, so you can imagine how awkward that’s gonna get if he finds out I like him, s-so-“

“Wait, what?!” Jake frowned. “You sent two letters?”

Michael froze. “Um.”

“Damn, you start to think you’re special and it turns out he sent a letter to another guy.” Jake huffed, resting his cheek on his hand.

“W-Well,” Michael mumbled. “I actually wrote five letters, so don’t go feeling too special.”

“Five!?” Jake cried, dumbfounded. “Damn, Mell, you’re a player!”

“Says you.”

Jake recoiled slightly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

“Fine, okay. Who else’d you send letters to?”

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

“Maybe.”

Michael growled under his breath.

“Fine. Dustin Kropp-“

“Oh my _god_ , the stoner kid?”

“Rich Goranski-“

_“Rich Goranski-?!”_

“And someone I went to camp with.” Michael ended, counting the boys off his fingers. “Can I leave now?”

“Never said you couldn’t, Mell.” Jake shrugged, finishing his slushy. “Oh, wait-“ He grabbed Michael’s sleeve as he made to get up, the warmth tingling up his arm. “That red bike with the Pokémon stickers, is that yours?”

Michael tensed, averting his gaze. “Mayhaps.”

Before Michael could even tell what was happening, he was already in Jake’s car, with Jake shoving his bike into the backseat.

Huh.

“This one’s yours, right?” Jake hummed as he pulled into the drive. “I remember from middle school.”

“Science project.” Michael mumbled. “I remember.”

“Thanks, by the way.” Jake smiled, nudging his shoulder. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to get an A on that if it wasn’t for you.”

“Shut up…” Michael huffed, trying desperately to forget the lingering touches and the way Jake’s face would light up when they got something right. Yeah, he was a dick now, but still. Cute. “You rule at science and math and shit.”

“Yeah, the equations and experiments part.” Jake shrugged. “You did all the drawings and shit, those were awesome. And the writing. I suck at the writing part, but you’re good with words. I know. I have proof.”

Michael flushed with embarrassment, shoving him away. “Shut up!” He snapped. “I – I don’t – you weren’t supposed to read it, okay?!”

“Alright, hey, hey!” Jake said gently, moving as if to put a hand on his shoulder, but ultimately deciding not to. “Chill, dude. I was just messing with ya. I won’t bring it up again, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Michael sighed. “I’m just – tense. And, uh – sorry for jumping you.”

“Ah, no problem.” Jake grinned. “Coulda been worse, right?”

Wrong. Jake was a high school god, and Michael was the equivalent of gum on his shoe, waiting to be scraped off. For him, nothing could’ve been worse than being jumped by a loser like Michael.

“So, level with me.” Jake smirked. “What’re you gonna tell Heere?”

“Oh…” Michael mumbled. “I - I dunno. I guess… The truth?”

“Well, yeah, but… What is the truth? Do you like him? Do you not?”

“Uh.” Michael stiffened, clenching his fists around the hem of his hoodie. What was the truth? He still cared for Jeremy, more than he was proud to admit, but the thought of telling him made his heart explode. And besides, nothing would ever be able to happen; Jeremy loved Christine and there was no proof of him having any kind of romantic feelings for Michael.

“Michael?”

He jumped, glancing at Jake with wide eyes. Jake’s brow furrowed with concern, making Michael wince. He didn’t need concern. He needed to think.

“Dude.” Jake said carefully, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You need to stop thinking so hard.”

Michael sighed, leaning his head back to gaze at the car ceiling. He hated it when Jake was right.

“I… I really don’t know, Jake.” He mumbled. “And it’s really nothing for you to worry about, so… Bye.”

He hopped out of the car and pulled his bike out from the backseat, wheeling it up the driveway and praying to God he didn’t trip on something. To fall on his ass in front of Jake Dillinger was the last thing he needed. All he wanted to do right now was to curl up in bed and cry.

“Uh – hey!”

Or not.

Michael groaned, turning on his heel. “What _now?!”_

“Okay, you’re in a bad place right now so I’m just gonna let that slide.” Jake huffed, pouting slightly. “But I was gonna say, what if you didn’t tell him?”

“What?”

“Heere. What if you didn’t tell him? Or anyone, for that matter?”

“I repeat, _what?”_ Michael frowned, crossing his arms. “Why would I do that? It’d make everything so awkward between us!”

“No, no, it won’t.” Jake grinned mischievously. “In fact, it’ll make it way less awkward.”

Michael rose an eyebrow. “I’m interested…”

“What if we let people think we were actually together?” Jake declared, smiling wide like this was the best idea ever (it wasn’t). “Just for a little while!”

“What?!” Michael yelped, stumbling away from him. “The fuck - Why would you even want that?! You’re straight!”

“Uh, pansexual, thank you.” Jake huffed, folding his arms. “Came out last year. Everyone thought it was a joke because literally no one cares about people who aren’t either straight or gay.”

“Well, contrary to popular belief, being gay isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” Michael growled. “And you still didn’t answer me, why would you even want to date me?!”

 _“Fake_ dating, Mell, that’s a very crucial part.” Jake smirked. “When Chloe heard you kissed me, she went crazy. If she thinks you and I are a thing, she’ll want to get back together, trust me. It’s one thing if I’m dating another girl, but a guy? Chloe can’t compete with that! She’ll go even crazier!”

“So, I’m your tank?”

Jake frowned. “Tank?”

“It’s a game thing.” Michael huffed – not at Jake, but at his own Overwatch reference. Taylor was truly rubbing off on him. Oh, Pacman, how he missed you. “Basically, I’m the person you’re keeping around to defend yourself with.”

“Interesting analogy.” Jake nodded slowly. “But technically, you already used me as your tank when you jumped me to make Heere leave you alone.” He shrugged with ease, that stupid smirk still on his lips, damn him. “Look, you don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it, okay?”

Michael pursed his lips, averting his gaze. No way. There was no way he was _actually_ considering this. Jake was – he was _Jake!_ Michael couldn’t date him! He’d have to hang with the popular kids, he’d have to pretend to _be_ a popular kid, and he’d seen Heathers, he knew what happened when you pretended for too long! And besides, dating Jake meant being in the spotlight; all the eyes in the school watching him, all the time, with no escape! They’d see his fears, his insecurities, his vulnerability – no. No, he couldn’t do it. He’d die. Literally die.

But it would save him a very awkward “hey I’d love to tell you I think of you as just a friend but I just sent you a love letter telling you my deepest darkest feelings so I guess we’re doing this” talk. And it might just save his and Jeremy’s friendship from eternal damnation.

“… I’ll think about it.” He said quietly. “But don’t hold your breath.”

“That’s all I ask, Mell, my man!” Jake smirked, shooting him a finger gun. “See ya ‘round.”

He jogged down the drive back into his car. Michael decided to pretend he didn’t watch him drive away.

“Who was that?” Taylor asked the moment he stepped through the door. He was perched shamelessly on the windowsill, binoculars in hand. “Was that the guy you almost killed? Did he just drive you home?!”

Michael swallowed heavily, bracing himself with one arm on the wall.

“Seems that way, huh?”

oOo

That night, Michael lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as a million thoughts raced through his mind.

 _Just calm down._ Jeremy. That’s what he would say. He’d say it in that endearing little “I don’t know what to do but I really want to help you” voice. He’d stutter it, too. _Just – c-calm down, okay?_ God, he was cute. So cute. Why did Michael have to think he was cute, why did Michael have to love him, why did he have to ruin their friendship, why, why, _why-?!_

_Dude._

_You need to stop thinking so hard._

Jakes voice. Not Jeremys.

… That was new.


	4. The Ten Commandments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, team, let’s go!”
> 
> The lacrosse army moved out onto the field, sticks over their shoulders like rifles. Michael swallowed, his throat dry and his lips still tingling as he stumbled off the field. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching, waiting, like a pack of lions watched the weak, sick little antelope wander away from the herd. 
> 
> He’d just entered the warzone, and he doubted he’d come out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this pacing is taking way too fucking long holy shit
> 
> well we're in the good shit now so
> 
> enjoy

Even during practice, the lacrosse pitch was an all-out battlefield. Michael didn’t know what it was about his fellow teenage boys, but it seemed that the moment they were given a far too heavy helmet and a big old stick, they became almighty gods of war. In their heads, of course. In reality, they were just dudes with sticks running on a field, screaming bloody murder when the ball wasn’t passed to them. Michael didn’t really see the appeal. He’d much rather be in bed, or the art department, or literally anywhere other than a big field full of testosterone fuelled lacrosse guys during the hellzone between summer and fall.

Michael swallowed, padding across the side of the pitch, trying to catch a glimpse of Jake. Why were these helmets so big? It was impossible to see anyone’s face in one of those. Maybe he should just do this another day, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, hey, maybe a year from now, that worked-

“Oh – fuck me!” Michael yelped as some guy in the ugliest yellow jersey he’d ever seen was rammed into him from the side. Was that seriously their teams uniform? It looked like nuclear waste. Made sense, considering their school was a literal garbage dump.

“Keep it in your pants, Mell!” Came a familiarly annoying chuckle, the one that made little tingles run across Michael’s scalp and made him want to punch the owner directly in his stupid face.

Jake pulled off his helmet, revealing his frustratingly perfect hair and that movie star smile that once made Michael shiver, but now made him grimace.

“So?” He smirked devilishly, hazel eyes sparkling. “You wanted to tell me something, or…?”

“Oh, no, I was actually here to see if someone would be willing to beat me to death with their lacrosse stick.” Michael deadpanned. Jake’s eyes widened in horror. “Joking! Just joking!”

“Oh!” Jake smiled in relief. “Well, that’s comforting.”

_Stupid perfect smile, stupid perfect Jake, stupid stupid stupid-!_

“W-Well, anyways.” Michael mumbled, scratching the skin under his headband. “I thought about it. What you said, I mean.”

“Oh?” Jake grinned in anticipation. “Well? What’s your take?”

How did his eyes do that sparkly thing?! Was it genetic? Could he do it on command? Either way, unfair!

“I, uh.” Michael swallowed heavily. “I – I think it’s… Not a bad idea.”

Jake cocked his head.

“Yes.” Michael huffed, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket as he glared at the ground furiously. “I want to do it. Okay?”

Jake grinned wide, a glint of satisfaction in his eye. He smirked, pulling Michael in by the waist and pressing their lips together firmly. Michael squeaked, held in place by Jake’s strong arms, totally helpless as the other boy moved his lips against Michael’s in a smooth, experienced manner. His hands flailed for a moment before he pushed them into Jake’s chest (good _lord_ , those were some pecs), moving Jake off of him carefully.

“Payback.” Jake whispered playfully in his ear as he pulled away, making Michael squeak helplessly.

“I…” Michael mumbled, raising a hand to his lips. “I-I… Have to… Go to Trig…” He managed to utter, turning on his heel swiftly to face the rest of the lacrosse team, who were, in fact, staring at them shamelessly. “As you were!” Michael declared, marching off the field. He heard Jake laugh breezily behind him, as if none of this were affecting him in the slightest, the _dick_.

“Alright, team, let’s go!”

The lacrosse army moved out onto the field, sticks over their shoulders like rifles. Michael swallowed, his throat dry and his lips still tingling as he stumbled off the field. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching, waiting, like a pack of lions watched the weak, sick little antelope wander away from the herd.

He’d just entered the warzone, and he doubted he’d come out alive.

oOo

_Seven new messages from; Player_Two_Heere_

_Three missed calls from; Player_Two_Heere_

Michael winced at the glaring notifications of his phone. It wasn’t like he wanted to ignore Jeremy – okay, maybe he did. But it wasn’t just that! What was he supposed to even say? “Hey, sorry for the letter, I guess there’s no point in denying that I’m madly in love with you despite the fact you dated my sister, but don’t worry, I’ll return your copy of Smash along with the smouldering ashes of our friendship by tomorrow. We cool?”. It just wouldn’t work.

Michael groaned, slumping his face into his folded arms. This was a nightmare

“Hey!”

And it just kept getting worse.

“I got your text.” Jake smiled warmly, as if he’d totally forgotten the whole kissing incident. Asshole. “So, what’s up?”

Oh, y’know, nothing much, it’s a little humid today and _you kissed me on the lacrosse field in front of everyone you dick-_

“Nothing.” Michael muttered, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Have a seat.”

“’Have a seat’?” Jake smirked, confusion in his eyes. “Am I in trouble?”

“No. But if we’re going to do this, we need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Huh.” Jake frowned. “And why’s that? I mean, I figured we could just wing it.”

“Do you _want_ everyone to find out we’re faking?!” Michael huffed in frustration. Clearly, Jake had put absolutely no thought into this plan. “What we need is a comprehensive set of rules to make sure no one ever finds out about this.”

“Why did I choose to do this with you?” Jake groaned, sprawling his arms on the table childishly. “Okay, fine. What’re your terms, or – whatever.”

“Well, first of all…” Michael said as he pulled his notebook out of his bag. “I don’t want you to kiss me anymore. Or hold my hand, or-“

“Whoa, whoa!” Jake cut him off. “No kissing?! Dude, we’re supposed to be dating!”

“I _know_ , but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve never had a boyfriend before!” Michael huffed. “I don’t want all my firsts to be fake! If I’m going to be making out with someone or whatever, it’s gonna be real! So no more stunts on the lacrosse field, okay?”

“Well, that one didn’t count.” Jake smirked, shrugging in that smooth “I don’t give a crap” way, _god_ , why did Michael agree to this?! “’Cause, y’know, you kissed me first. I was just evening the score.”

“Score of _what?!”_

“The-“

“Never mind, I don’t care.” Michael sighed. “Look, this is non-negotiable, okay? No kissing.”

“Fine, but what’s the deal with hand holding?”

“I don’t want to go around all day wondering about if my hand’s too sweaty, or if I’m in the right position or if I need to intertwine our fingers or not intertwine or-“

“Okay!” Jake interrupted. “No hand holding, jeez. Just take a breath, dude, turn off that big brain of yours.”

Michael huffed, looking back at his notebook. Jake just rose an eyebrow at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes and took an exaggerated breath.

“Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Jake smirked. “So how are we supposed to fake date if I’m not allowed to touch you?”

“Uh…” Michael mumbled, tapping his pencil to his lower lip. “I’m not really sure…”

“Oh!” Jake exclaimed. “I can put my hand in your back pocket!”

Michael blinked at him in confusion. “… Sorry, what?”

“Y’know, from the movie.”

No response.

“… Sixteen candles?” Jake prompted. Still nothing. “How have you never seen this movie?! I thought you liked eighties shit!”

“Not cheesy eighties shit!”

“You did _not_ just say that.” Jake gasped in what Michael hoped was fake horror. “Okay, two more rules…” He muttered, scribbling on his notebook. “You have to watch Sixteen Candles with me, because it’s a classic-“

“Ugh!”

“And, obviously, we can never tell anyone that this relationship is fake. It’d just be too humiliating. For me, mostly, but I guess for you, too.”

“First rule of Fight Club.” Michael nodded solemnly, choosing to ignore that little bout of passive aggressiveness. “Respect.”

“Uh – what?”

“Wait.” Michael froze, searching Jake for any sign of trickery. “You’ve _never_ seen Fight Club?”

He shook his head helplessly.

“Okay, write that down.” Michael demanded. “After we watch the – the candles thing, we’re watching Fight Club.”

“And I’m willing to bet you’ve never watched Mean Girls, so we’re watching that, too.”

“Okay, how about this?” Michael mumbled, pulling back the pad and scrawling something on the page. “At least once a week, one of us watches a movie of the others choice. Deal?”

“Damn, Mell.” Jake scoffed. “You’re taking this real serious, huh?”

“Whatever, Dillinger. I hope you enjoy the Pokémon movie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake chuckled, swiping the notebook. “Okay, rule number four, you have to eat lunch with me and my friends.”

“What?! No way!”

“Yes way!” Jake laughed, keeping a hand on Michael’s shoulder to keep him from taking the notebook back. “I always eat with the people I’m dating, there’s no way anyone’ll believe we’re together if you don’t sit with me!”

“But-!” Michael stuttered, his stomach coiling. He couldn’t do it. The cafeteria was too loud, Jake’s friends were too loud, they’d all be watching him, staring at him, _seeing him-_

“Dude.” Jake said firmly, bringing him back to reality. “It’s okay. Just breathe, okay?”

Michael sucked in a breath. Jake smiled at him reassuringly. Like he actually cared.

(Ha fucking _ha.)_

“How about this…” Jake said as he wrote down the next rule. “We alternate. One day, you’re eating with me, next day, I’m eating with you. Chill?”

“Chill.” Michael nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it would limit his time in the middle of a Peak Anxiety Zone.

“Okay, next, you have to come to all my games and parties.”

Michael winced. Sports games were one thing, but parties? Actual high school parties, with the drinking and the yelling and the hormones? He wasn’t sure he could handle it…

“Okay…” He mumbled. “But because you’re drawing me so far out of my comfort zone, you have to drive me and my brother to school and back, every day.”

“Every day?!” Jake yelled. “I have extracurriculars to keep up with, here!”

“We don’t mind waiting.” Michael shrugged. “I think it’s a fair trade; my comfort and wellbeing for your gas money.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Jake huffed. He jerked suddenly, his lips twitching into a smile. “Hah. _Mell-_ odramatic.”

“How witty.” Michael glared. “Okay, what next?”

“Uhh…” Jake muttered, tapping his chin. “I guess… I could write you notes? Every day.”

Michael’s breath stuttered for a moment. Notes? It was one thing with the hand in the back pocket and the parties and whatever but – notes were real. Notes were something he could hold onto. Feel. Notes were romantic.

“You…” He mumbled. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah.” Jake shrugged. “Chloe always wanted me to do it for her, so if I do it for you instead, she’ll go crazy.”

 _Ah_. Michael should’ve known.

“How romantic.” He sighed, jotting it down. “Okay… You have to help me out with math homework. Trig is kicking my ass.”

“Fine. But you have to help me with English Literature!”

“Deal.” Michael scribbled down the word ‘homework’ on the paper. “Meet at the library during lunch?”

“What? No way.” Jake shook his head. “I have extracurriculars during lunch. With that and doing the lunch shifts, there’s no way we’ll have time. I’ll just go to your house.”

“No, you most definitely will not!”

“It’s either that or fail Trig.” Jake shrugged with that stupid cocky smirk of his. Michael grit his teeth. He could deal with them being cutesy at school but – at home?! In front of his family?! He couldn’t keep up the act for that long, not under so much pressure!

But Mr Rodriguez would definitely kill him if he didn’t get at least a B on their next pop quiz…

“Fine.” He grumbled stubbornly. “You can come to my house. Just don’t blame me if I’m stoned when you get there.”

“I’m not going to stone you, Mell, get real.” Jake huffed, rolling his eyes.

“I – I wasn’t…” Michael frowned, leaning closer. “Jake, do you know what weed is?”

“Uh, yeah, Mell, I’m not-“ He froze, eyes widening. “Oh my _God,_ you’re a stoner?!”

“How did you not know this?!” Michael snapped. “This is a known fact! I’m Dustin Kropp’s best customer, I listen to Bob Marley, I am wearing a weed patch _right now!”_ He cried, waving at the patch on his hoodie for emphasis.

“Stop yelling at me for not knowing your drug habits!” Jake whimpered. “Oh my God, you do drugs! You’re a drug addict!”

“I am not a drug addict, you moron!” Michael growled. “It’s weed, you can’t get addicted to weed. I mean, you can, but – only in severe cases or whatever.”

“Michael!” Jake whimpered. “I’m a _student athlete_ , do you know what coach’ll do to me if I finds out I’ve been around drugs?!”

“Oh for fucks sake, Jake, it’s not like I’m forcing you to shove a bag of coke up your ass!” Michael snapped. “It just takes some of the pressure off, damn!”

“That’s what they say in the peer pressure PSA videos, and then the main character winds up dead in a ditch!”

“I wish I were dead in a ditch right now.” Michael muttered, deliberately drawing a weed leaf in the margin of the page.

“Mean. Unnecessary and mean.” Jake sniffed, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Hey, gimme that, I wanna add something.”

“Oh?” Michael frowned as he handed back the notebook.

“I want to call you nicknames.” Jake smiled. “Cutesy ones. Chloe was always giving me nicknames and I never came up with any of her. She was beyond pissed. Imagine how crazy she’ll be if I start giving them to you.”

“Nicknames?” Michael grimaced. “I hate nicknames.”

“Y’know, I am seeing a pattern here.”

“Ha, ha.” Michael huffed. “What kind of nicknames would you even give me?”

Jake frowned, tapping the pen against the paper. “Honey?”

“No way.”

“Sweetie?”

“My moms call me sweetie!”

“Okay, damn! How about, uh…” A devilish smirk broke across his face as he leaned in across the table. “How about _master?”_ He whispered huskily.

“Oh my God…” Michael murmured, almost in a trance. “You _are_ the bitch in the relationship.”

Jake recoiled, clearly thrown off. “What?!”

“Nothing. Just pick a nickname.”

“I’ll come up with something.” Jake shrugged. “Oh! One more thing – you have to come with me on the ski trip!”

Some more explanation was probably necessary.

Middleborough students only had three things to look forward to; prom, the annual kilo clothes sale (this year’s theme was ‘vintage’, which Michael was especially excited for), and the end of year ski trip. It had a reputation for being the biggest loss-of-virginity event of the school year, more than any dance or party. It also felt necessary to say Michael had never been. Obviously.

“That’s, like… A _really_ long time from now.” Michael said quietly, his mouth suddenly dry. “You really think we’ll still be doing this by then?”

Jake hummed, waving his hand vaguely. “Think of it as a precaution. There’s no way anyone would let their boyfriend go on this trip without them. So, if we are still doing, uh…” Another vague hand gesture. “ _This_ by then, you have to come with me.”

Michael was certain that by the time the ski trip came around, this whole him and Jake mess would be long dead and buried in the dirt. And that was the _only_ reason he said-

“Yes.”

“Tight.” Jake grinned. “Okay, lemme see the list.”

Michael flipped the notebook, regarding their contract with something close to pride (which was kind of sad, now that he thought about it).

  1. _No kissing/hand holding_
  2. _Movies_
  3. _No snitching_
  4. _Alternating lunch shift_
  5. _Michael goes to Jakes games/parties_
  6. _Jake drives Michael and Tay_
  7. _Jake must write Michael notes every day_
  8. _Homework_
  9. _Jake gets to give Michael as many nicknames as he likes_
  10. _SKI TRIP!!_



“Whoa, _whoa,_ what is number nine?!” Michael demanded, pointing at the offending number. “I never agreed to you giving me as many nicknames as you wanted, I thought it’d be just one!”

“Aw, c’mon, sugarbear!” Jake grinned, clearly enjoying this. “Besides, I did say nicknames. As in, plural. And you agreed, so…”

“I hate you.” Michael growled, stubbornly signing his name at the bottom of the list before handing the pen to Jake. “Sign.”

He rose his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Do it or I’ll stab you with it.”

Jake rolled his eyes, taking the pen and leaving a perfect, loopy signature next to Michael’s illegible scrawl.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Michael mimicked. He held his hand over the table. “Here. Shake on it.”

“Y’know, I’m already having regrets about this.” Jake sighed, shaking his hand.

“Too late, you signed.” Michael shrugged, packing up his stationary equipment as the bell rang in the background. “See ya, Dillinger.”

“Oh, wait!” Jake said quickly, grabbing his sleeve. The warmth from his hand contrasted with the cold of the oncoming fall. “I have one more rule.”

“Seriously?” Michael frowned. “Isn’t ten enough?”

“It’s more of a suggestion. You won’t have to write it down. Just… Keep it in mind.”

“Fine.” Michael huffed. “What?”

Jake flashed a Cheshire grin as he playfully toyed with Michael’s sleeve.

“You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

Michael fixed him with a level glare. “Won’t be a problem.” He stuffed his pencil case and notebook into his bag. “See ya, Dillinger.”

“Might wanna call me by my first name now that we’re dating, Mikey-bear.”

“Quit it with the bear nicknames.”

“Rodger dodger, chief.”

Michael couldn’t help the bitter feeling in his stomach from spreading as he walked away. It felt wrong to be doing this. Not just with Jake, but at all.

He hadn’t been entirely honest about why he’d wanted to do this. It wasn’t just to keep Jeremy from knowing how deep his feelings for him were. Ever since middle school, Jeremy was all Michael could think about. And yeah, those feelings fluctuated, and he’d gotten other crushes along the way, but… It _always_ came back to him. Jake was the first person who’d actually been able to get Michael’s mind off of Jeremy – he was the only person who could hit Michael’s off switch and turn his brain from a sparking set of live wires to a peaceful hum of electricity.

It was selfish to use Jake as a distraction. And he knew what Christine would say, how a selfish person would never admit they were selfish, but… He didn’t think that was right anymore. To him, a selfish person was someone who knew they were being selfish and then kept on being selfish. Like he was right now. It wasn’t fair. He knew that. And yet, he was still going through with it.

He nibbled his lip anxiously. It was too late to go back on the deal now. He’d already signed the contract. It may not be fair, but he was going through with it anyways.

He groaned, pounding his head against his locker door. He needed to sleep.

oOo

“Tay, c’mon!” Michael huffed as he tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. “We’re gonna be late!”

“I hate taking the bus!” Taylor whined. “Can’t you just man up and start driving again?”

“Sexist.” Michael muttered as he dragged him out of the house. “And besides, we’re not driving.”

“What do you-?”

A horn blasted just outside their driveway.

“Yo, Michael!” Jake hollered from the window. “We moving or what?”

Taylor froze, blinking at the large, shiny car towering over their tiny, beat up PT Cruiser.

“Oh, _hell_ yes!” He squealed, all but diving into the backseat.

“And that would be my brother.” Michael sighed as he hopped into the passenger seat.

“Nice to meetcha, mini-Mell!” Jake grinned, flashing that movie star smile. “Say, whatcha got there?”

“Ube sponge cake. And my name, thank you so much for asking, is Taylor William Chiu-Fung Mell, Tay to my friends.” He fixed Jake with a flat stare. “You can call me Taylor.”

Taylor hated his birth surname. Michael knew that for a fact. Meaning, he was only using it now to lengthen his name. To sound more intimidating.

Oh, God. Was this the Taylor version of the shovel talk?

“Yes, sir.” Jake chuckled, leaning in to say to Michael, “I see feistiness runs in the family.”

Michael squirmed at the proximity. “Tay, put your seatbelt on.”

“And how exactly do you know my brother?” Taylor asked sceptically as he fastened his seatbelt.

“Oh, uh!” Michael squeaked. “H-He’s, um-“

“I’m his boyfriend.”

He said it so easily. Like none of this even bothered him. It was strange, how easy it was for him to lie like that.

“So, ube, what’s that?” Jake asked as he pulled out of the drive.

“It’s like a sweet potato.” Taylor explained. “It’s from the Philippines.”

“You can try one if you want.” Michael said, swiping a cake from the bag, much to Taylor’s annoyance.

“Thanks.” Jake smiled, taking a bite. His eyes widened at the taste. “Damn, that’s nice. So you’re Filipino, too?”

“A little. Mostly Taiwanese. But I was born in Delaware.”

“Okay, that’s tight.” Jake nodded slowly. “So, answer me this; how can I get you to bring me a pack of those sponge cakes tomorrow?”

“You’re driving us again?!” Taylor gasped.

“Indeed I am, mini-Mell!”

“Okay.” Taylor grinned. “You can call me Tay.”

Michael shuddered at their exchange. He’d never seen Taylor warm to anyone so quickly, but he was certain that the two of them combined would be a destructive force.

Jake smirked, leaning into Michael’s space again and winking mischievously.

“Progress.”

The way he’d seen it before, progress was supposed to be a good thing. If you progress in a game, you get closer to the end. That was a good thing. But you also got further into the story. You got more invested in the game.

He wondered how much progress they’d be able to make before things went sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pssst percy if you're reading this you're a cutie


	5. Avoidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t take long for Michael to realize that he was not welcome at the popular table.

One thing that Michael was definitely not going to get used to during this whole endeavour was the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. It was creepy. Intimidating. Like he could feel their stares burning into his skin. He was so used to being invisible; just a side character people either didn’t notice or just ignored out of habit. Now, though, things were different. He was a main character – or a love interest, at least. One of those characters people threw in at the last minute to cause chemistry between the _real_ main characters. The ones who were supposed to fall in love and run happily into the sunset. At least he knew it wouldn’t last. That was comforting.

The second thing he wouldn’t get used to was definitely Jake’s hand in his back pocket.

Michael wasn’t really sure what he was expecting, honestly. Jake had suggested it, and Michael had agreed. He’d known this was coming. So why was he so shocked at the feeling of Jake’s hand against him, very noticeable, even through his jeans, and uncomfortable close to groping his ass?

“Relax.” Jake muttered in his ear as they walked into the cafeteria. “I’m your boyfriend, remember?”

“I can’t exactly relax when your hand is on my butt.” Michael hissed through his teeth. Jake smirked, and before Michael could ask what he was planning, he felt a very hard pinch in a place he most definitely did _not_ want to be pinched.

“Hey!” He yelped, elbowing him in the ribs, hard.

“Would you calm down?” Jake chuckled. “You’re gonna blow our cover! And besides, it’s a very nice ass.”

“Shut up shut up shut _up!”_ Michael hissed. Jake just laughed, the asshole, and stopped in his walking, pulling on Michael’s pocket so he spun around, making them stand chest to chest.

“Gotcha somethin’.” Jake smiled, pulling a folded scrap of paper from his pocket, with _‘Michael <3’ _neatly written on the top. Michael swallowed, gingerly taking it from Jake’s hand and tucking it into his pocket.

“Thanks…” He mumbled, unsure of what else to do. His eyes flicked nervously to Chloe’s table and _oh_. If looks could kill, Michael had no doubt he’d be a flaming pile of ash at this moment.

Jake smirked, glancing at where Chloe was fuming at her table. “One more thing…” He murmured, undoing the little pink heart pin from his jacket and fastening it to Michael’s hoodie. As he fastened it, he leaned in to murmur in his ear, “Good job.”

Michael fought a shiver as Jake pulled away. He nodded awkwardly and spun on his heel, power walking out of the cafeteria. It felt wrong to be congratulated on doing nothing but accepting a note and a pin and having a back pocket for someone to stick their hand in. But apparently, that was where life had taken him.

Before he could react, a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him into the AV club room.

“Dude!” Jenna squealed. “You’re dating Jake Dillinger?!”

“Um!” Michael squeaked awkwardly, the note burning a hole in his pocket. “Kinda?”

Well. At least it wasn’t really a lie.

“Oh my _God,_ Mike, how could you not tell me this?!” She cried, though the grin on her face gave her away. “This is insane!”

“I know!”

“You’re in with the popular kids!”

“I know! It’s awful!”

“No it’s not, it’s _amazing!”_ Jenna grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. “Now we can go to parties together! I won’t have to deal with weird popular people all by myself!”

“You could just, y’know, _not_ deal with popular people at all-“

“Nope, not happening, I need my info.” Jenna smirked. “Damn. Who knew you had a secret boner for the king of Middleborough?”

“Yeah. Weird.” Michael chuckled, twisting his fingers in his hoodie nervously.

“Dude, you _have_ to sit with us at lunch today!” Jenna squealed, clapping her hands together. “I know the bleachers are more your scene and yeah, it’s quiet there, but come on! You’ll love it, I promise!”

“Your last promise was that Love Island was actually a good show.”

“You were entertained, weren’t you?” Jenna huffed. “C’mon, Michael, please? I wanna know _all_ the details and I know everyone else does, too! And besides, I’m pretty sure there’s a hornet’s nest growing under the bleachers.”

 “Fine, fine.” Michael sighed. Guess their lunch shifts were starting already.

“So, what’d Christine say about this?” Jenna asked as they wandered through the halls.

“Oh, uh…” Michael mumbled. “I-I dunno, I… I haven’t told her yet.”

“You haven’t?”

“No. I’m kind of avoiding her calls…”

“What? Why?”

_Because I’m in love with her ex-boyfriend who happens to be my best friend who also happens to KNOW I’m in love with him and now I’m dating Jake fucking Dillinger to try and distract from that and if I tell Christine I’m dating someone then I’ll have to explain how it happened and then she’ll disown me as her brother maybe?!_

Hm. Too extra.

“Because she just broke up with Jeremy?” Michael settled for. “Who happens to be my best friend? So it’s a little awkward.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” Jenna sighed. “Always tough when you have to choose between family and friends.”

“Yeah…” Michael muttered. “I’ll tell her eventually. I’m just… Figuring out how, y’know? This is all really knew to me.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine.” Jenna smiled, nudging him gently. “But, between us, if Jake pulls anything on you, I’ll kill him.”

“I can kill my own exes, thank you.” Michael scoffed, nudging her back. “And I… _Really_ don’t think that’s gonna happen. If we do break up, it’ll be a… Mutual agreement.”

Again. Not exactly a lie.

“Still.” Jenna said firmly. “No one hurts my best friend and gets away with it.”

Michael stilled. “Best friend?”

“Of course, dude.” Jenna shrugged. “Like, yeah, I spend most of my time with the popular kids, but that’s just ‘cause I like knowing shit. You’re the one I like the most.”

“Oh.” Michael said quietly. “Well, um – you too.”

“Yeah, right.” Jenna scoffed. “C’mon, dude, I know Jeremy’s your fave, you don’t have to hide it.”

“No.” Michael said, grabbing her shoulder. “Jeremy – he’s my best friend, yeah, but… So are you. I can have more than one best friend. This isn’t kindergarten.”

“Fair.” Jenna shrugged. “Ugh. Why do you have to make me feel?”

“C’mon, Jen!” Michael whined, draping himself over her. “Best friends?”

“Michael, people are looking!”

_“Best! Friends!”_

“Fine!” She huffed, shoving him off of her. “Best friends. Happy?”

“Very.” Michael grinned. “Love ya, Jen!”

“Love you, too, nerd.”

oOo

It didn’t take long for Michael to realize that he was not welcome at the popular table.

The Cool Table was a usually a wall of noise; mostly screaming, laughing and gossiping. Now, it was filled with uncomfortable silence. The only change was Michael. Therefore, his three possible conclusion were either, they weren’t in the mood for talking today (which couldn’t be correct because they were _always_ in the mood for talking), Michael’s presence was just so amazing that it had stunned them all to silence (ha fucking ha), or they didn’t want to talk because they were uncomfortable with Michael being here (ding ding ding, we have a winner!).

Boom. Science.

“So…” Jake drawled, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “How was your day?”

“Good.” He said awkwardly, glancing at the group of jocks staring at them in confusion. “I got an A on my English assignment, so.”

“You’re so good with words, babe!” Jake chuckled. Michael tried not to squeak at the pet name, though he was certain his bright blush gave him away.

“Aww, are you blushing, Mikey? You’re so cute!” Jake cooed, pulling his hand up to pinch his cheek. “Isn’t he adorable, guys?”

“Uh.” Jock Number One (formally known as Aaron) mumbled. “Yeah. Cute.”

Michael sighed. He could deal with a lot of things, but this was not one of them.

“Y’know, if I’m making you guys uncomfortable, I can just-“

“You’re not making anyone uncomfortable.” Jake said quickly, pulling Michael back down from where he was standing. “Right, guys?”

“Not at all.” Jenna spoke up from her end of the table. The rest of the populars quickly followed suit, nodding and muttering awkwardly.

“Brilliant.” Jake smiled politely, though his eyes flashed with warning.

“So…” Jenna smirked mischievously, her hands poised carefully around her phone so she could take notes. “How did you guys meet?”

“Yeah.” Jock Number Two (or Graham, to his friends) muttered. “Tell us, Jake, when’d you turn gay?”

The silence was different now. Less awkward and more _‘literally what the fuck’_. Or maybe that was just Michael.

“I’m sorry.” He said carefully, clasping his hands together to restrain himself from slapping a bitch. “’Turn gay’?”

“Yeah.” Jock Two shrugged. “I mean, isn’t that what happened?”

“No. No it is not.” Michael said simply, the word ‘murder’ practically glowing above his head in neon writing. “You can’t turn gay. It’s not a choice. I can’t just go “eh, this is boring” and start liking girls instead.”

“Yeah, you can.” Jock Two scoffed. “Just look at a bunch of pictures and shit and get used to it.”

“So, conversion therapy?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You’re saying I can force myself to be straight, that’s conversion therapy, and the fact that you think it’s totally fine is-“

“Okay!” Jake laughed, squeezing Michael’s shoulder tightly. “Well, first of all, I’m not gay. I’m pansexual. I told you guys last year, remember?”

“That?” Jock One frowned. “I thought you were joking.”

“Yeah, Aaron, I kinda figured that when you started humping your moms skillet.”

Jock One flushed brightly, matching his varsity jacket. “I – I didn’t _do_ that, I just-“

“You did. I have it on video if you wanna see it, actually-“

“No!”

“Yes!” Jenna grinned, all but flinging herself over the table. “C’mon, Jake, show us the goods!”

“Nah, Jen, I wouldn’t do that to my boy!” Jake chuckled, swatting her away. “Just figured I’d let him know that I have it on video is all.” He smiled politely at Jock One, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just in case someone ever wanted to see it.”

“… So how did you guys meet?” Jock One asked, eager to change the subject.

“Um!” Michael squeaked. Shit. They hadn’t prepared that far. What was he supposed to say? Technically, they’d always known each other, but they’d only really _known_ each other since the eighth grade science project fiasco, but then they’d drifted apart and never actually properly gotten to know each other until just a few days ago and they couldn’t exactly say they’d just started dating a few days ago out of the blue that would be so suspicious and-

“Eighth grade.” Jake said smoothly, giving Michael’s shoulder another reassuring squeeze. “I mean, technically we met in eighth grade. Science project.”

“Oh, I remember that.” Jenna nodded. “You were the only ones to get an A.”            

“Well, with my scientific genius and Michael’s awesome writing, we pretty much crushed it.” Jake laughed, turning to give Michael a fond look. Michael fought a laugh. He was really selling this.

“Jake invited me to a party.” Michael said quietly. “A middle school party, I mean. We kissed during spin the bottle.”

“You were _so_ cute, babe.” Jake smiled. “And, well, after Chloe-“

“Dumped you?” Jock Three scoffed.

 _“Thank you,_ Leo.” Jake said, smile becoming tight and forced. “I was at Seven Eleven trying to distract myself, and Michael just wandered in, saw me there being all sad and got me a slushy. He let me vent, and, well.” He pulled Michael closer towards him, resting his cheek on Michael’s hair. “The rest is history.”

It sounded real. The story he was fabricating out of thin air. It wasn’t perfect, but… It was very them.

Michael stiffened. _Them_. Where had that come from?

“I’m still not buying this.” Jock One huffed. “No one just goes gay outta nowhere.”

“That’s because you can’t ‘ _go gay’,_ it’s not a choice-“

“What do you even like about each other?” He asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair in that way that basically meant ‘I’m not going to be letting this go any time soon so you may as well admit defeat’.

Fuck. Michael’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. He hadn’t prepared for this, he wasn’t ready-

“He’s annoying!”

Silence. The whole table turned to gape at him. Some of the girls looked about ready to slap him.

“I-I mean…” Michael mumbled. “He – He’s annoying, yeah… But in an endearing way? L-Like, he’ll keep pestering you so much you’re just… Used to it. And – I dunno. It feels nice to be the one he wants to pester.”

A small smile twitched at Jake’s lips.

“He’s a nerd.” He smiled gently. “But he’s my nerd, so. I like him. And besides, it’s fun hearing him rant about video games and – sorry, what was the name of those defense guys, again?”

“Tanks.”

“Those!”

“I’m still not buying it.” Jock One shrugged stubbornly.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing that it doesn’t really matter if you buy it or not.” Jake smiled. “C’mon, babe, lunch is almost over. I’ll walk you.”

Michael nodded quickly, almost tripping out of his chair in his haste. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Watching. Whispering. Knowing.

“Sorry about Graham.” Jake sighed once they’d left the cafeteria. “He’s… He’s kind of-“

“A bitch?”

“An acquired taste.” Jake corrected. “My friends are a lot, I know that – they’re not used to this kind of stuff.”

“They should be.” Michael spat, hands clenched at his sides. “The world isn’t some perfect place where all the stuff you don’t wanna know about just doesn’t exist. There’s nothing wrong with being aware.”

“I know that.” Jake sighed. “But they don’t. Our group is pretty… Privileged. They’re used to-“

“Not having problems?”

“Why do you have to be so honest?” Jake groaned. “Okay, yeah. They don’t have the kind of problems a gay guy would have. Or the kind of problems a black guy would have. You can imagine how hard it was for me to explain why it was okay for them to get high but it wasn’t for me.”

“Ugh.” Michael grimaced. “Did they give you that whole ‘police brutality doesn’t exist!’ spiel?”

“Yeah. It got rough.” Jake sighed. “But once I explained it to them, they got it. It took a while, but they did. All I’m saying is give them time.” He looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please? For me?”

He made it sound like they had time for Michael to actually get to know his friends. To get used to them. Like they weren’t a ticking time bomb about to go off.

But he just looked so hopeful…

“Fine.” Michael huffed, crossing his arms. “But I can’t promise that I’ll like them.”

“Nice.” Jake grinned. “C’mon, I’ll take you to your photography class now.”

“You know I have photography?”

“Jenna showed me your schedule so I’d be able to walk you places. Figured it’d help sell the act, yknow?”

“Oh.” Michael blinked. “Uh, yeah, that’s cool. She didn’t say anything?”

“Nothing suspicious.” Jake said reassuringly. “She thought it was romantic. Chill out, dude!”

“Don’t call me dude if we’re dating.” Michael huffed. “And uh – quick thinking with that whole ‘how did we meet’ thing.”

“Thanks.” Jake smiled, slipping his hand back into Michael’s back pocket. Ugh. “You too, with the ‘what we like about each other’ thing.”

“Oh, uh.” Ah. Michael cleared his throat awkwardly. That thing. “Y-Yeah, I just… I guess it’s true. You are annoying, but… I dunno. It’s an entertaining kind of annoying.”

“Well, thank you, for that.” Jake laughed bitterly, rolling his eyes. “And, for what it’s worth… I do like listening to you rant about nerd stuff.”

Michael frowned, blinking at him curiously. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Jake shrugged. “I mean, I don’t get it, but… I dunno. You get all excited. It’s kinda impossible _not_ to get into it.”

… Huh.

“Oh.” Michael nodded slowly. “Uh. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jake flashed him his movie star smile. “So, photography?”

Michael smiled gingerly, leaning into his side a little more.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

oOo

Michael sighed as he plodded to his locker. Last period, finally. He’d been so tired this past week, no surprise why. All he wanted was to just go home and cuddle his dog while watching TV.

As usual, life decided to slap him in the face.

“You’re dating Jake Dillinger?!” Jeremy all but screamed as he slammed Michael’s locker door shut.

“Dude!” Michael yelped at the noise. “What the hell?!”

“How could you not tell me you’re dating Jake Dillinger?!” Jeremy cried. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

 _“Whoa!”_ Michael yelled, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “Calm down, dude, it just happened!”

“How can something like that just happen?!” Jeremy retorted. “You tell me everything, I tell _you_ everything, how could you not trust me with this?!”

“Excuse me?!” Michael snapped. “I have never not trusted you with anything!”

Well. Almost anything.

“And besides.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like you kept me up to date with your dating life, either.”

“Oh my God, you’re still mad about that?!” Jeremy cried. “I told you, it just-“

“Just happened?” Michael rose his eyebrows. “That sounds familiar.”

“That’s not the same and you know it!”

“Oh, no, of course it isn’t!” Michael scoffed. “Y’know, because I never ditched you for Jake.”

“How can you still be so upset about this?!” Jeremy snapped. “It’s not like I wanted to ruin our movie night!”

“And I didn’t want to come upstairs to see my best friend kissing my sister on our couch, but we don’t always get what we want, Jeremy!”

“I can’t believe you’re still mad about this! I’ve apologised and apologised and you said it was fine!”

“Oh my God, how are you this dense?!” Michael cried. “I’m not mad about you kissing Christine during our movie night, Jeremy, I’m upset that you kept on decided to ditch your time with me for my _sister!”_

Jeremy’s face fell, his retort dying in his throat.

“Michael…”

It was at that point that Michael remembered that Jeremy was currently in possession of a certain love letter that told him every single one of Michael’s deep dark feelings.

“I – I didn’t mean it like that.” He said quickly, stumbling away from his locker. Jeremy’s eyes softened as he took a step towards him.

“Michael, I-“

“I have to go.” Michael whispered, before doing what he did best and running away.

oOo

“So, just to be clear, you _are_ driving us again, right?”

“He’s driving us again, Tay, you can calm down now.” Michael sighed as he unclipped his seatbelt.

“I’m just checking!”

“I’ll drive you for as long as Michael’ll have me, Tay.” Jake smiled. “You go inside now, yeah? I gotta talk to Michael about something.”

Tay nodded, hopping out of the car. Jake’s smile immediately dropped.

“What?” Michael sighed. “Did I break the contract or something? What, not compliment you enough, or-“

“Oh my God, do you really think I’m that vain?” Jake huffed. Michael almost flinched at the sudden change in character. “Look, I-“ Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look – I know we’re not really dating, okay, but – you’ve been looking sad for the whole car ride back and… Like, I know we’re not exactly friends, or, or boyfriends, but… I dunno, we have some kind of bond, right? I just wanna know if you’re okay is all.”

Michael blinked, trying to ignore the heat rushing to his cheeks. It’d been a while since someone had wanted to know if he was okay.

“You don’t have to worry or anything.” He said quickly. “It’s fine. I’m just… Tense.”

“Tough week.” Jake nodded. “Look, if – if this is too much for you, we can just-“

“No!” Michael interrupted. “No, we can’t. I mean, we’re already in deep and if we break it off now, Jeremy’s just gonna-“

“Okay!” Jake chuckled, grabbing his hands. “Dude, you really need to control your spiraling. It’s okay. Just look at me, yeah?”

Michael swallowed heavily, his breath coming back to him. Jake’s hands were warm. That was nice. And his eyes were really big, smile was a little crooked, but the imperfection made him even more handsome somehow and was that a dimple on his left cheek or-?

“Um!” He yelped, pulling his hands back. “Uh – th-thank you, for, for the help, but – I gotta go check on Tay, and, uh, Christine’s supposed to be calling soon, s-so-“

“Oh, you’re taking her calls?” Jake smiled brightly, as if he was actually invested in Michael’s life and family.

“Uh – kinda…” Michael mumbled. Jake rose an eyebrow. He groaned. “Fine, I’m not taking her calls, happy? This is all just – _way_ too much right now, and-“

“Michael, it’s _okay!”_ Jake chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself, okay? Just go inside and – I dunno, watch manga or something.”

“Well, first of all, you watch _anime_ , you _read_ manga-“

“What I’m saying is _relax_ , you big nerd.” Jake scoffed, all but shoving him out of the car. “Go, go do things you like! Take a break, jeez.”

“Fine, fine.” Michael huffed, stumbling out of the car. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, my sweet!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Eh, worth a try.” Jake shrugged before shutting the door and pulling out of the drive. Michael forced himself not to watch him go. Jake was like a magnet, or the sun, or something. He was just… _pulled_ to him. He couldn’t explain it.

He groaned, resting his back against the door once he was inside. Fuck this. He had calls to avoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the final week of my art exam preparation is today so i wont have much time to work on the fic so i'll probably have to miss next weeks update, but don't worry, the fic will still happen, i'm not giving up on it, i just want to be able to have some chaps banked up on my laptop so i don't get overwhelmed


	6. Shotgun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay.” Jake huffed, slamming his pen down. “I give. Let me try.”
> 
> “Huh?” Michael frowned, his brain too fuzzy to really focus on anything.
> 
> “Let me try.” Jake repeated. “I want – I want to try weed, okay?”
> 
> Michael snorted. “Try weed?”
> 
> “Yes! Try weed! I want to try some god damn weed, is that too much to ask?!”
> 
> “Aw, but what about your precious life as a student athlete?” Michael mocked, leaning forward to boop Jake’s nose.
> 
> Jake swallowed heavily, his cheeks getting red. “Just- give me the fucking blunt, Michael!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or, obligatory shotgun scene
> 
> yeah nothing else really happens in this chapter like
> 
> nothing relevant to the plot at least
> 
> i just wanted them to get high and cuddle
> 
> also yaaay we updating on sundays now!! mostly because getting up at six am to update before i had to go to school was not worth it

“Oh hey, Christine, how’s college? Good? Awesome! Did I mention I have a fake boyfriend now?”

Michael’s reflection in the blank screen of his laptop grimaced at him.

“Okay…” He muttered, tapping his fingers together awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s Jake Dillinger, the guy I hate, so that’s totally believable… How did it start? That’s a funny story! Yeah, it _totally_ wasn’t because I was trying to convince your ex-boyfriend and my best friend that I’m not hopelessly in love with him, that – that’s for sure, so…”

He sighed, shutting his laptop with an audible clip, as if admitting defeat. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t there just be a guidebook on how to lie to your sister about the fact that you’re in love with her ex-boyfriend and now you had to get a fake boyfriend to cover it up? He groaned, flopping back on his bed. He knew being a teenager was supposed to be hard – he just hadn’t expected anything on this level.

Maybe he should just keep avoiding her. He was already lying to everyone at school, there was no way he’d be able to keep it up at home, too. Especially not with Christine. They told each other everything, right down to Christine’s weird crush on Kermit the Frog. Michael winced. If they really did tell each other everything, why had he been so desperate to hide his letters from her? He had obvious reasons for the Jeremy letter, but the rest? Why couldn’t he just tell her, _trust_ her the way she trusted him?

He groaned, grabbing his pillow and smothering it over his face. Was there something wrong with him? Why couldn’t he tell someone like Christine all the stuff he wanted to say? Why did he have to write letters instead of saying stuff out loud?

If he was such a huge believer of ‘being who you are’, why did he still feel like he was hiding a part of himself?

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He grumbled into his pillow, shoving it off his face and glaring at the screen.

_Incoming video call from: Lady Macbeth_

“Shit.” He mumbled as he tapped the answer button and forced his face into a smile. “Hey, Chrissy!”

“Hey, Mikey!” Christine grinned on the screen. “God, finally! I’ve been trying to call you _forever_! Why haven’t you been answering me, you butt?”

It was a classic Christine joke, and yet it still sent his brain into overdrive.

“Well!” He squeaked. “I, uh, I’ve just been busy with schoolwork and I’m driving now and I’ve gotta do homework and chores and stuff so yeah, pretty busy, and I listen to all my music on vinyl now because it’s really the best way of listening to music so yeah, less time on the phone, I hardly ever use it now, what even are phones, how are you?”

“Whoa!” She giggled. “I thought I talked fast! School must be really getting to you, huh?”

He chuckled bitterly. “You have no idea.”

“So, how are things?” Christine smiled brightly, practically blinding Michael with it. Come to think of it, maybe his brightness was just high. “Tell me everything that’s new!”

_Well, for starters, all my secret shame letters got sent out into the world so all the boys I’ve ever had crushes on know all my gross feelings, including Jeremy by the way, yeah, that happened, so now I’ve got a fake boyfriend to try and divert attention from said gross feelings and I’m pretty sure I’m losing way more hair now because of stress so that’s great-_

“Nothing much.”

Christine frowned, almost wilting on screen. “Nothing?”

Oh God. She sounded so defeated. He was awful.

“W-Well, y’know!” He said quickly. “Tay settled in really quick, and junior year’s not much different from all the others, s-so…”

“Oh…” Christine nodded slowly, eyes downcast. “Yeah, yeah, I get that. How’s drama club?”

“I-I don’t really go that much anymore.” Michael mumbled. He’d stopped going in sophomore year to avoid having to see Jeremy and Christine being cute in rehearsals – it was bad enough watching them kiss in the shows, he didn’t want to have to sit through all the practice runs. “Mr Reyes misses you though, so. That’s nice.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” She smiled. “Tell him I miss him,  too. My new drama teacher doesn’t even like hot-pockets.”

“And he hasn’t been fired yet?”

“I dunno, I guess things really are different in Britain.” Christine shrugged, fighting giggles. “So, uh…” Her giggles dissipated, and smile began to fade. “How’s Jeremy? Have you seen much of him?”

“What? No!” Michael yelped. “I – I haven’t be seeing Jeremy, why the hell would I be seeing Jeremy?!”

“Uh.” Christine blinked. “Because… He’s your best friend? And our neighbour?”

“Y-Yeah, well, we’re both super busy now, so-“

“Michael?” Christine asked gently. “I – I _really_ don’t want this to turn into that whole ‘you’re my brother and you have to hate all my exes’ thing. You and Jeremy are friends, best friends! I’d never want to ruin that.”

 _Too late_ , Michael thought bitterly, before he realized what an absolutely disgusting thought that was and pinched himself, hard. Christine would never knowingly ruin his and Jeremy’s friendship – and besides, it wasn’t even her fault. It was no ones fault. She and Jeremy just wanted some time together. Jeremy wanted to be around her more than he wanted to be around Michael.

It was fine. Totally fine.

“Christine, you’re not ruining anything.” Michael smiled in what he hoped was reassurance. “Jeremy’s just… In a bit of a funk, I guess. He needs some time to himself, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Christine sighed. “I’m kinda going through that myself. Uh – don’t tell him that.”

“I would never.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not to trying to mope around during our talk.” She smiled, shaking off her sadness. “You got anything going on tonight?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m making cupcakes for Tay’s bake sale.”

“What?!” Christine gasped. “No fair! I want cupcakes!”

“Relax, Chris, I gotchu!” Michael laughed. “I already have a box ready to go. I mean, shipping’ll take a while, so they might be stale, but…”

“Your love will keep them fresh and tasty.” Christine declared. “Mind keeping me on video while you bake? I need to see the process!”

“Alright, alright!” Michael chuckled, throwing himself into a sitting position. “Stay put, I’ll start up now. Hope you don’t mind being propped up on Tay’s cup of old paint water.”

“He really needs to start clearing up after himself.” Christine sighed. “Scratch that, you _both_ need to start clearing up after yourselves.”

“Alright, third mom, dang!” Michael scoffed as he wandered into the kitchen. “Okay, I’ll just set you here, and-“

The knock at the door almost made him drop the phone.

“Oh!” Christine squeaked. “What was that? The phone went shaky – did you drop me?”

“I didn’t drop you!” Michael said quickly. “No dropping family in this house. Just someone at the door. It’s probably the mailman, I’ll just-“

“Ooh, let me come!” Christine grinned. “Please? I miss our mailman!”

“And I’m sure he misses the cookies you used to bake for him whenever he came by.” Michael chuckled as he opened the door.

“Hey, Mikey-bear!”

Oh for _fucks sake-_

“Jake?” Christine’s voice gasped from the phone. “What’re you doing at-“

“Okay, time to go, bye now!”

“Wait-!”

Michael slammed the hang up button about seventeen times before rounding on Jake.

“What the hell?! Why are you at my house, dude?!”

“Whoa, whoa, chillax!” Jake laughed, making Michael bristle. How was this all so _easy_ for him? How could he just turn up at someone’s house and tell the _other_ person to calm down?! “Didn’t you read my note? I told you I was coming over.”

Michael blinked, his silence making it quite clear that no, he had not read that note because notes were real and if he read the note then that would make _this_ real which would be a very bad idea because this is most definitely _not_ real and if he started thinking it _was_ real then-

“Stop thinking!” Jake ordered, forcing him out of his own head and back into reality. “I’m just here to fill out our contract, sweetheart.”

“’Sweetheart’ is an unacceptable nickname.” Michael growled. “And what part of the contract?!”

“Homework.” Jake smiled like the smug bastard he was. “I get to come to your house so we can help each other with homework. You signed, Mell.”

“But-!” Michael cried helplessly. “No, no, you can’t come in now, I – I’m making cupcakes! For Tay’s bake sale, s-so-“

“Michael, who’s at the door?”

_Shit._

“No one!” He yelled over his shoulder, but alas, it was too late.

“Jake Dillinger?” Phoebe smiled in pleasant surprise. How dare she. This situation was _not_ pleasant. “Little Jake Dillinger? God, you’re even taller than me now!”

“Nice to see you, Mrs Mell!” Jake greeted, shaking her hand and flashing her the Golden Boy smile. “I was just coming over so me and Michael could go over some homework together.”

“Oh, well in that case-“

“I can’t!” Michael said quickly. “I – I have the bake sale, remember? The cupcakes? So I’m busy, and, and we can’t study, so-“

“Oh, nonsense!” Phoebe laughed. “I’ll take care of the cupcakes, sweetie, you and Jake can go down to your room to study.”

“But-!”

“No buts, Michael, don’t be rude.” She scolded lightly. “Come on in, Jake. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good, but thank you.” Jake smiled politely as he followed her into the house. “Wow, your décor is amazing, Mrs Mell! Your interior designer did a great job.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, but I actually did it myself.” Phoebe chuckled. Michael stood in the doorway, gaping. What was happening?

“What?!” Jake gasped dramatically. “It looks so professional!”

“Well, aren’t you kind?” Phoebe grinned, preening at the praise. “I did do my best. After all, home is where the heart is.”

“So true, Mrs M.” Jake smiled, turning to smirk at Michael as Phoebe went on stroking her own ego.

“How…” Michael mumbled. “How did you _do_ that?”

Jake shrugged smoothly, throwing his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Not my first time wowing parents, Mell. I thought you’d know me better than that by now.”

Michael’s stomach coiled bitterly. Of course. Of course Jake had the ‘impress the parents’ act locked and loaded by now. He was Jake Dillinger, dating extraordinaire. There was no way he hadn’t been through this a million times before. Actually, no, he hadn’t. Because those times had been real.

“So, you live in the basement?” Jake frowned as Michael led him to his room.

“Yeah, I figured I’d get a jump start on the whole sad lonely nerd virgin thing.” Michael sighed, flicking on the light switch and cringing at the dingy mess of his room. Oh, God, why hadn’t he cleaned today? Or at least tried to get the weed smell out? “Welcome to my, uh… Space, I guess.”

“Whoa.”

Michael winced. Wait for it…

“This is _awesome!”_

“Look, I know it’s not-! Wait.” He froze, searching Jake’s face for any sign of mockery. “You like it?”

“Of course.” Jake laughed, wandering around the space. “Dude, this is amazing! It’s really, uh...” He snapped his fingers a few times. “Rustic! I think? Something like that.” He turned to scan Michael’s walls. “Did you draw all of those?”

“Um!” Michael yelped, diving in front of the shelf full of his art works. “K-Kinda…”

“Well, lemme see!” Jake chuckled, nudging Michael aside gently so he could take a look. “Whoa… Dude, these are incredible…”

Michael cringed. “Th-They’re not that great…”

“Just let me compliment you, cutie.” Jake smirked. Michael was too flustered to tell him that there was no way he’d allow his nickname to be ‘cutie’. “And these little statue things, you made these, too?”

“Sort of.” Michael mumbled. “My, uh – my dad used to have a bunch of old fishhooks he’d never use, so I’d fiddle with ‘em and one day I got bored and glued them together to make a statue. He flipped.”

Jake frowned. “Your dad?”

Michael stiffened. Fuck, fuck, _shit_ , why did he always say stuff without thinking?!

Realization sparked on Jake’s face. “Oh…”

“A-And this one!” Michael blurted, quickly picking up a little wire mouse with buttons for ears. “This is, uh, this is something I made for Tay, he – he likes mice, so...”

Jake nodded slowly, coughing into his hand to break the tense silence. Thankfully, he seemed to get the message.

“So, uh… Homework?”

“Homework.” Michael sighed in relief, leading Jake to his desk. “I-It’s only meant for one person – you can just take my chair, I’ll grab a beanbag-“

“No way, man, I’m the guest, I’ll take the beanbag.” Jake smiled. “Sides, that shit looks comfy.”

“Uh – no.” Michael said quickly, grabbing the beanbag before Jake could take it. “I’ll take it. I like the beanbag.”

Jake could obviously tell that wasn’t the reason, but Michael didn’t really want to tell him that the beanbags were an exclusive Jeremy-Michael thing. Of course, now that he and Jeremy were in their little friendship limbo, the beanbags were kind of out of commission, but still. It was the principle.

“So.” Michael cleared his throat awkwardly. “What areas did you wanna go over?”

“English Literature.” Jake said, pulling out his notebook and a pen. “I’m supposed to be doing an analysis on this poem but I have no idea where to start.”

“Well, the beginning is usually a pretty good place.” Michael murmured, scanning the poem.

“I know _that_ , I just can’t write anything about the beginning!” Jake protested. “I don’t know what half of these words mean!”

“Dude, chill.” Michael said gently. “It’s okay. Just… Try to focus on one line at a time, okay? Like the opening; _‘your presence leaves me astounded, though I cannot place how’._ What does that mean?”

“It says what it means!” Jake huffed. “The person makes them all sappy and shit whenever the author sees them but they don’t know why, or – I dunno, something.”

“That’s a good start.” Michael nodded. “Sometimes, just breaking down what the words are saying can get you a good grade. So, here’s what I’m picking up – the person the poet likes, that person leaves them, like… Shocked, or amazed, or whatever, but they’re not sure _how_ that person is surprising them. Right?”

“Okay...” Jake nodded slowly. “So... The poet has feelings for the person, but they’re not sure what those feelings are?”

“Exactly!” Michael grinned. “See, now you’re getting it. Write that down.”

Jake frowned at his paper. “It’s just one sentence... I didn’t even word it all that well...”

“It’s still work, right?” Michael shrugged. “Just leave it as, like, a bullet point for now and you can keep it as a rough draft or an outline or something.”

“Rough draft?” Jake frowned. “I normally just... Do one version. It’s faster that way.”

“Well, yeah, that might work for all your science papers, Mister Math, but for subjects you’re not so strong on, it’s easier to just do a rough version and improve it later, y’know? Otherwise you’re just obsessing about writing something perfect and end up not writing anything.”

“Huh...” Jake mumbled. “Okay, well, I get the obvious stuff, yeah, but – what’s the last part? _‘Forever my dearest regret’,_ what does that even mean? It cancels itself out, it’s, like-“

“An oxymoron?”

“What’d you call me?”

“Wh- no, I-“ Michael groaned, running a hand through his hair. “An _oxymoron_ is like – a contradictory term. Like how how Sbarro’s is the best worst pizza place.”

“Hey!” Jake protested, poking his side.

“You know what I mean!” Michael laughed, shoving him back. “It’s like – they call it a regret, so, obviously they think that this whole relationship with the person they’re writing about was a mistake. That being said, the use of _‘dearest’_ means that they’re happy they made the mistake. They’re glad they did it, even if it ended up being a total mess. You understand now?”

Jake frowned, glancing at Michael from the corner of his eye.

“... I’m starting to.”

Michael blinked. “Oh. Well, uh, that’s good! So, what you also wanna do is analyse the structure of the poem. So this one is a sonnet, and that means-“

“This is _boring!”_ Jake groaned, sprawling himself out over the table. “Can we play video games?”

“Jake, you just said you needed to do this analysis.”

“Analysing is _boring!”_ Jake whined. “I did a sentence, isn’t that enough?”

“No, Jake.” Michael sighed. “C’mon, we just started-”

“Bored!”

“But we need to-!”

“Bored!”

“But-!”

“Too bored to focus!” Jake declared, draping himself over Michael so his cheek was squished into his shoulder. “C’mon, we’re supposed to be dating, right?” He smirked at him mischievously, leaning up to purr in his ear. “We can come up with _some_ way to pass the time...”

“Okay!” Michael snapped, shoving Jake off of him as he got up to grab the Bob Marley vinyl propped on one of his shelves. “I am nowhere near sober enough to deal with this.”

“You’re a day drinker, Mell?” Jake scoffed. “Damn, didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Not really...” Michael muttered, pulling out the little plastic baggie from the vinyl case. “I was thinking of something a little different...”

“Different? Like wha-“ His eyes zoned in on the baggie in Michael’s hand – or more specifically, the little green nuggets inside. “Oh no. No no no no no, Michael, you _cannot_ do this to me-!”

“Calm your shit, Jake, I’m not gonna peer pressure you.” Michael huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re being annoying so I’m smoking weed. Just me, not you. Relax.”

He grabbed a sheet of paper and set to work rolling. All while he was doing it, he could feel Jake staring at him blatantly from the corner of his eye – a mix of anxious and somewhat curious. Michael rolled his eyes, lighting the joint and raising it to his lips. Jake peered at him even closer, leaning forward slightly with intrigue.

Michael fixed him with an unimpressed stare and blew a puff of smoke into his face.

“Dude!” Jake all but shrieked, jumping away and coughing exaggeratedly. “Second hand smoke!”

“Calm down, Dillinger, it’s nothing worse than the shit you have at your parties.” Michael scoffed, taking another slow drag of the joint. He decided to enjoy it this time, rather than let Jake continue to annoy him, so he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, parting his lips and allowing a stream of smoke to curl out of his mouth. Once he’d fully exhaled and that fuzzy, comforting feeling took over him, he allowed his eyes to flutter open, smiling slowly at the brightened colours and swirls of his usually dim basement.

He cast a glance at Jake. He was openly gaping at him now, eyes wide and lips parted. He looked dumbfounded and – was that a blush on his cheeks? Michael quickly brushed off that thought. It was just the weed.

“Dude, I just told you I’m not gonna peer pressure you.” He said quietly, his words slightly slurred. “I promise, okay? You can relax now. I don’t break promises.”

Jake swallowed thickly, turning his gaze back to his English notes as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

“Good to know.” He muttered quietly.

Michael shrugged, taking another drag and letting a small chuckle escape from his lips.

“What’s funny?” Jake frowned.

“I dunno.” Michael shrugged, dopey grin still on his lips. “Just – the situation, y’know? I’m smoking weed in my basement with Jake Dillinger. My fake boyfriend. I have a fake boyfriend and I’m smoking weed with him in my basement.” He laughed again, light and bubbly, like Aero chocolate. Man, he wanted Aero chocolate right now. “I dunno.” He repeated, focusing back on the conversation. “Just funny, I guess.”

Jake nodded slowly. “It’s a little funny.”

Michael smiled, watching amusedly as the blue smoke danced in front of him. On his next inhale, he kept some of the smoke in the back of his throat, leaving it tickling his throat. He pushed out small puffs of smoke, grinning at the little rings they made.

“Okay.” Jake huffed, slamming his pen down. “I give. Let me try.”

“Huh?” Michael frowned, his brain too fuzzy to really focus on anything.

“Let me try.” Jake repeated. “I want – I want to try weed, okay?”

Michael snorted. “Try weed?”

“Yes! Try weed! I want to try some god damn weed, is that too much to ask?!”

“Aw, but what about your precious life as a _student athlete?”_ Michael mocked, leaning forward to boop Jake’s nose.

Jake swallowed heavily, his cheeks getting red. “Just- give me the fucking blunt, Michael!”

Michael rolled his eyes, handing him the smouldering paper. “It’s a joint, by the way.”

“Same fucking thing.” Jake muttered as he peered at it with narrowed eyes, like it might sprout wings and fly away.

“No.” Michael said firmly. “Blunts are rolled with tobacco paper. This is a joint. Do you always swear when you’re frustrated?”

“Like you can talk!” Jake snapped. “Okay, so – I just, uh...” He put the joint between his middle and index finger, as if it were an actual cigarette. “Hold it like this?”

“No, idiot!” Michael laughed. “Just hold it like a normal person, jeez.”

Jake huffed, raising it to his lips cautiously. “So, uh... How do I... Do it?”

“Just inhale it. Don’t suck it, then it won’t go into your lungs. _Inhale_. Then hold it for like, a second, and breathe out. And you’re gonna cough. Everyone coughs their first time.”

“I feel reassured.” Jake muttered. He swallowed and steeled himself, putting the smouldering wrap of paper between his lips and inhaling firmly. Immediately, his eyes bugged out of his face, and he started choking all over the table.

“Dude!” Michael whined. “You’re gonna get spit on my notes!”

“I am _dying!”_ Jake cried between coughs.

“Would you calm down? I told you, everyone coughs. Besides, you breathed in too hard.”

“How is there a wrong way to breathe?!” Jake snapped.

“Just relax and try again.”

Jake grimaced, taking the joint and inhaling once again. He immediately started hacking, thumping his chest furiously.

“Hey!” Michael yelped as the joint almost slipped from his fingers. “Dude! You’re wasting my weed!”

“Your weed is wasting my health!” Jake spluttered. “Ugh. This sucks, I quit. I’ll just be a fucking – stupid responsible _student athlete_ for the rest of my life.”

“Are you genuinely upset about this?” Michael frowned.

“What? No!” He wilted. “I don’t know... It’s just - I dunno... You were doing it. And you always get mad whenever I do anything I do, so... I thought I’d do something you do.”

“Oh.” Michael mumbled. “Well – shit dude, that’s real sweet.”

“Yeah, well.” Jake muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Guess you’re stuck with stupid regular _student athlete_ Jake.”

“I mean...” Michael said quietly, taking another quick puff. “You – you don’t have to smoke just to get me to like you, but... If you really do want to, there is something else we can do.”

“I want to.” Jake said firmly. “I want to at least try, I mean.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded slowly. “C’mere.”

“What?”

“Just – c’mere!” Michael huffed, grabbing Jake’s face and pulling him close so they were practically nose to nose. “Okay. This is called shotgunning. It’s easier to do, and you’re probably gonna only get, like, a little bit of the high, but lets be honest, that’s still more than what you were getting earlier.”

“Um.” Jake swallowed, eyes desperately searching for anywhere to look that wasn’t Michael’s face. Given that they were practically eyeball to eyeball, it was a pretty useless attempt. “Okay?”

“Great. Now open your mouth.” Michael said as he took another, longer drag of the joint. Once Jake opened his mouth, he closed his eyes and blew a steady stream of smoke into his parted lips.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, meeting Jake’s own wide eyes, barely a few inches from his own. He sat there, hovering awkwardly over Michael with his jaw slack and arms stiff at his sides, before he doubled over and started choking again.

“Come on, man!” Michael huffed. “You’re supposed to actually breathe _in_ the smoke, not just sit there!”

“Just – shut up!” Jake spluttered, clapping a hand over his mouth. “What even was that?!”

“I told you.” Michael shrugged. “Shotgunning.”

“W-Well-! You could’ve given me some _warning!”_

“Okay, fine.” Michael rolled his eyes as he took another drag. “Next shot’s coming in about five seconds.”

“Wait, what-“

Before Jake could finish, Michael pulled him close again and blew another, slower bout of smoke towards his mouth. Jake actually seemed to understand what to do this time; he inhaled properly, took Michael’s face in his hands and angled him gently. Kind of like a kiss, really. There was a little more space between them and a lot more smoke, but... Still kind of like a kiss.

Fuck. Being high was supposed to help with the dumb thoughts, not make it worse.

Michael brushed off the thoughts as Jake pulled away from him slowly. He quirked his brows, his lips parting once again to let wisps of smoke escape his mouth. He gaped at them in wonder, his eyes wide enough to make Michael start giggling again. The noise was enough to make Jake jolt and start coughing again, but, hey, it was only a little bit, right at the very end. Michael was still proud.

“Wow.” Jake said quietly. “That was... Uh...”

“It’s fun, right?” Michael grinned. “How ya feeling, Golden Boy?”

“Golden Boy?” Jake chuckled, a nasally snort sounding in the back of his throat. His eyes widened again and he slapped a hand over his mouth, as if he wanted to cram the sound back in.

“Aww!” Michael cooed. “That was so gross!”

“Shut up!” Jake laughed, shoving Michael’s shoulder. “Oh my _God_...” He chuckled, looking around the room. “Am I high?”

“What? No way, you barely got any.” Michael scoffed. “Probably just a placebo effect. You think you’re high, so you feel high.”

“I dunno, man...” Jake smiled dopily at him from across the desk. “This feels pretty real to me.”

Michael frowned, blinking at him curiously. He felt like he was supposed to be seeing something here, but... He wasn’t sure what.

“C’mere again.” He muttered, bullying Jake forward as he pressed the joint to his lips. “Fucking – I’ll show you a real fucking high...”

“Now who’s frustrated?” Jake smirked, god damn him, he was smooth even when he was high!

Michael huffed, craning his neck up to push the next puff of smoke into Jake’s mouth. There was still a bit of a gap, considering Jake was in a chair and Michael was settled in a beanbag, so some of the smoke spread away from them and wisped into nothingness.

“Man...” Michael huffed, leaning back in his beanbag. “I can’t reach you all the way up there! Come down here!”

“Dude, I’m gonna break my back if I lean down any further!” Jake snorted. “You come up!”

It was either the weed, his touchstarved-ness, or some ungodly mixture of both, but that seemed like a pretty good idea.

Michael hopped up from the beanbag, settling his legs on either side of Jake’s chair so that he was straddling his waist. Jake made a small noise in the back of his throat, his hands quickly rising to hold the soft muscle of Michael’s waist. He took another drag and leaned forward, just enough so that if he tilted his head just so, their lips would brush, and softly blew another plume of smoke into his mouth.

Jake blinked a few times when they pulled away once more, reeling from the smoke.

“Wow.” He mumbled, eyes blown wide. “I, uh – I think I’ve had enough, for now.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded slowly. “I like this. It... It feels nice.”

“It does, huh?” Jake smiled gently, running his hand through Michael’s hair. “Mm. Soft.”

Michael chuckled and leaned his chin on Jake’s collarbone contentedly, almost purring at the feeling of Jake gently tugging at his hair. He loved having his hair played with. Christine would say that he was like a cat in that sense, but he didn’t care. It was a nice feeling, and it only felt better with the high.

Jake stroked through his hair again gently, frowning when his hand bumped into Michael’s headband. He made to take it off, but Michael jumped and mumbled in protest, moving his hand away.

“Okay, okay...” Jake said gently, moving his hand back to Michael’s soft locks. “’M sorry, won’t do it again...”

Michael smiled, cuddling him close as Jake continued to pet him. It was nice, being there with him. Jake was warm and solid beneath him, and every so often he’d just barely rake his nails over Michael’s scalp, leaving a delightfully tingly trail behind him. Michael blinked blearily, his bones suddenly getting heavy and his body feeling weak.

“I need a nap.”

Jake snorted. “There’s a bed right there, dude.”

“No.” He said quietly, wrapping his arms around Jake’s waist and nuzzling into his neck. Jake was so _warm_... “I’m just... I’m gonna go to sleep real quick...”

“Uh – Michael?” Jake frowned. “I-I don’t think – Michael-“

A quiet snore was all he got in response.

Jake sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. He gently pulled Michael further onto his lap, enough so that there was no risk of him falling off the chair. He turned to his notebook. He _did_ have to get that homework done, after all, high or not.

Michael whined softly at the movement and nosed further into Jake’s neck stubbornly, enough that his lips just grazed the skin. The touch was small, feather light, but it was so gentle and so intimate that Jake couldn’t help the hitch in his breath. It was only heightened by the feeling of the weed, sparking like a fire and coursing through his veins like molten gold.

Okay. High or not, Jake was _so_ not going to get any homework done today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so something KIND OF relevant to the plot happened, we got some more christine/michael dynamic!
> 
> (it's a surprise tool that will help us later)
> 
> also, sorry for missing way more updates than i said i would - i went to see the book of mormon and then i had an art exam and two welsh exams and it was just a huge fucking mess and i got nothing done but i'm gonna try to be a little more productive now


	7. Everybody Just Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you ever think that maybe Michael doesn’t want to talk right now?” Jake shrugged. “Maybe he wanted to talk when he was ready to talk, not when you wanted to.”
> 
> Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know everything about him, y’know.”
> 
> Jake smiled politely. “At least I’m not pretending that I do.”
> 
> Oh damn. He went there.

When Michael woke up, he was curled in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin and – had he been tucked in? Jesus Christ. Though, to be honest, he would be lying if he said it wasn’t comfy. He almost didn’t want to get up. Then he saw the note on his bedside table, next to a glass of water and a cookie.

_Morning, snuggle bug! Heard people get hungry when their high comes down so I figured I’d get you this. Wasn’t sure if you’d be thirsty or not so I got you some water too. Lots of ~~love~~ strong like, your wonderful and considerate boyfriend, Jakey D._

Michael felt his face flush. He rolled onto his back, put his pillow over his face, and screamed.

oOo

“Well, my moms are officially in love with you.” Michael sighed as he and Jake walked through the halls, Jake’s hand still stuffed in his back pocket.

“Aw, really?” Jake grinned. “That’s sweet. I like ‘em, they’re nice.”

“When did you even meet mom one?”

“Well, when I finally managed to get you off of me,” Michael flushed at the reminder that he’d basically forced Jake into a non-consensual cuddle session. “I went upstairs and saw her coming in with a bunch of bags. She looked tired, so I offered to bring them in. No biggie.”

“It was to her.” Michael scoffed. “She’s going on and on about how we need to appreciate her as much as you do.”

“Well, maybe you should!”

Michael frowned at that. He didn’t like how easy this conversation was, how invested Jake sounded. It was like it was all real. He knew it wasn’t, but... It was getting harder and harder to convince himself.

“C’mon.” He mumbled, steering them out of the building and towards the bleachers. “My turn for lunch.”

“Man!” Jake whined. “I didn’t even get to get something from the cafeteria!”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Michael shrugged as they settled on the grass. “My moms love you so much that they demanded I make you a lunch as well.” He pulled out two brown paper bags from his backpack, handing one to Jake. “It even has those ube mini-cakes you liked.”

Jake blinked at the bag, a soft pink tinting his cheeks. “You made me a lunch?”

Michael tilted his head at that. His voice was so quiet, so uncertain, so... Not like Jake.

“Uh, yeah.” He mumbled, dropping the bag in his lap. “Only ‘cause my moms are obsessed with you.”

“Oh.” Jake said quietly. “Thank you.”

They lull into a comfortable silence, something Michael had actual come to enjoy around Jake. He’d never really liked the quiet before, preferring to chatter about meaningless things or rant about whatever his latest fixation was. And it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy doing that with Jake – he was a good listener. But Jake was probably one of the only people Michael liked being quiet around. With Jeremy, he’d felt this constant need to have his attention at all times, and if he failed to keep it, he just felt... Useless. But this gentle quiet he’d found with Jake... It was nice. Just existing with him for a moment.

“You good?” Jake frowned. If Michael didn’t know better by now, he’d say Jake looked concerned. “You went all spacey for a sec.”

Michael smiled and blinked slowly. “I’m good. Just... I dunno. A little braindead, I guess.”

Jake gave him a funny kind of look – not his typical smirk or his movie star smile. This was closer to the excited grins he’d get when he got over ninety on a math paper, even though everyone knew he’d get an A, except... Softer, somehow.

“C’mere, dorkus.” He snorted, tugging Michael towards his side so he could lean on his shoulder. “Get comfy.”

Michael frowned. “No one’s looking.”

Jake shrugged, that same strange smile on his face. “So?”

That meant they weren’t trying to convince anyone right now. That meant whatever was happening right now was real. That meant that Jake was doing this because he wanted to, not because he had to.

Michael swallowed down the butterflies in his stomach and curled into Jake’s side.

“Nothing. I’m just... Weird. Today.”

“Just today?” Jake smirked, and Michael feels a small buzz of electricity down his spine.

“Shut up...” He mumbled, nosing into his varsity jacket. “It’s too early for you right now.”

“It’s the middle of the day-“

“Too! Early!” Michael huffed, burrowing into Jake’s chest. “Shut up and cuddle me, doofus.”

Jake’s strong arms curled around him protectively as he propped his chin on top of Michael’s head, as if shielding him from the outside world. Michael sighed, curling into him as he let out a small yawn. This was nice. Jake was a warm, solid weight he could rest upon without being questioned. His felt his body almost thrum at the contact, as if Jake was recharging him with his warmth and security.

He wanted to stay like this...

“Um!” He squeaked, jolting his head up and smashing it into Jake’s chin.

“Ow!” Jake yelped, cradling his jaw. “What the fuck, man?! I thought we were having a moment!”

“Sh-Shut up!” Michael cried, shoving Jake’s lunch back into his hands. “You – You can’t eat if I’m laying on you, s-so!”

“Okay, okay!” Jake laughed, taking the bag from him. He still chose to sit unsettlingly close, which made every fibre of Michael’s being prickle with electricity, but, yknow. Small victories.

“This is really good.” Jake murmured between mouthfuls. “You made this?”

“It’s nothing special.” Michael muttered, trying to figure out why his throat was so dry.

“It’s good.” Jake repeated, throwing an arm over Michael’s shoulders so he could pull him in just a bit closer. “Thanks for making it for me.”

Michael was about to quickly utter that he didn’t make it _for_ Jake, he just made it because his mothers asked him to and then he just decided to make a sandwich he thought Jake would like, even if it meant running down the the nearest store to grab some cream cheese at five in the morning, but that was only because his mothers loved Jake so he may as well just make something Jake would enjoy but that didn’t mean-

“Michael!”

Fuck.

“Jeremy!” He managed to squeak. “Uh, hey, man!”

Kill him, kill him _now-_

“Hey!” Jeremy smiled, and Michael felt himself melt a little. “Uh...” He cast an uneasy glance at Jake before turning his hopeful eyes back to Michael. “Mind if I sit?”

“Uh.” Michael fought the urge to flinch. “I... Thought you ate at with the drama kids?”

“Oh, I did.” Jeremy nodded. “But, y’know, now that Christine’s not...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, I just wanted to say hi.”

Michael must’ve looked absolutely devastated, because Jake’s arm tightened around his shoulder as he gave Jeremy his million dollar smile.

“Well, go ahead!” He said politely, though not at all as warmly as he had spoken before. “The more the merrier, right, Mikey?”

“Uh!” Michael swallowed, glancing from Jake to Jeremy and back again. “Sure?”

Jeremy stiffened, taking an awkward seat next to the other two.

“Um.” He murmured. “Hi?”

Michael stiffened, staring firmly at the ground. “Hi.”

“Hi!” Jake smiled. “This is nice. Isn’t this nice, Mike?”

Michael nodded mutely. Jake’s eyes flickered with concern, though his smile stayed the same.

“I-I just wanted to talk to Michael.” Jeremy said quietly.

“I’m not hiding.” Michael mumbled, still positioned firmly against Jake’s chest.

“Okay...” Jeremy muttered. “Well, um – I wanted to say sorry for last Friday?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but he didn’t say anything, which Michael was grateful for. He shrugged and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It’s cool.”

“It’s not.” Jeremy said gently. “I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you. Especially not over something so stupid. I just got... Taken by surprise, is all.”

“So was I.”

“I know.” Jeremy sighed. “And I’m sorry for that.”

They delved into an uneasy silence, Jeremy and Michael avoiding each other’s gaze and Jake loudly munching on his sandwich. Michael hated this kind of quiet. With Jake, it’d been easier – they’d been fine to just exist in easy silence for a moment. With Jeremy, it was just... Wrong. They were always going back and forth with easy quips and banter. Now, it felt as if they didn’t know what to say to each other. Like they didn’t even know each other anymore.

“Okay – do you have to be here for this?!” Jeremy snapped suddenly, before squeaking and slapping a hand over his mouth. If Jake was taken aback, he didn’t show it. He just rose an eyebrow and took another munch of his sandwich.

“Got a problem with me, Heere?” He said smoothly, his smile now entirely gone and replaced with hard eyes and a grim expression.

“W-Well, no, but-!” Jeremy spluttered, clearly shocked that he’d actually had the gall to even raise his voice at someone like Jake. “I just – I wanted to talk to Michael alone and you’re just – just – _here_ , making it awkward, and-“

“Y’sure I’m the one making it awkward?” Jake said in monotone, his voice dry and icy.

“I-“ Jeremy froze awkwardly, completely unsure of how to respond. “I’m not – Me and Michael always talk-“

“Well, maybe he doesn’t want to talk now.” Jake shrugged. “Did you consider that? Maybe he wanted to talk when he was ready to talk, not when you wanted to.”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know everything about him, y’know.”

Jake smiled politely. “At least I’m not pretending that I do.”

Oh damn. He went there.

Jeremy recoiled, his eyes turning to a full on glare. “I’ve been Michael’s best friend for twelve years, I think I-“

“Well, considering I’m his boyfriend-“

“Only for a week, that’s not even on the same _level_ as-“

“At least I’m actually aware of what Michael wants-“

“What I _want!”_ Michael snapped, rising to his feet. “Is for everyone to shut up and leave me alone!”

Both boys silenced, whirling to look at Michael with wide eyes.

“Hey...” Jeremy said quietly, almost defeated. “I-I was just-“

“Jeremy.” Michael managed to growl through gritted teeth. “I honestly do not care anymore, okay? You wanna dump me the moment something better comes along, great, you wanna start paying attention to me again the moment they leave you, fine, but I _don’t!_ Understand?! I don’t want to be part of this – this fucking-“ He let out a frustrated noise and waved his arms at them. “This fucking _who deserves attention the most_ contest, okay?! You want to be friends again, you do it on my terms, too, not just when you feel like it!”

Jeremy choked out a small stammer, but Michael was far too pissed off to care about what he had to say. It was his turn now.

“And the same goes for you!” He cried, rounding on Jake. “Look, I get the whole protective boyfriend shit you’re putting on, _believe me,_ but I don’t need someone fighting my battles for me! I don’t need some knight in shining armour to protect me and make everything okay, I just want to be pissed and yell and maybe just cry a little, so with all due respect, _fuck off!”_

Jake looked entirely crushed, and it was enough to make Michael pause in his rantings.

“Look, I-“ He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean that, I just – I’ve had a very stressful week, and I know I’m being a bitch, but I’d really appreciate it if everyone just left me alone for a bit. Is that too much to ask?”

The boys shifted awkwardly and muttered quiet agreements.

“Okay. Great.” Michael said stiffly. “I’m going to – go. Now.” He cleared his throat before turning on his heel. “Bye.”

He practically sprinted into the school building, determined to put as much distance between himself and the human embodiments of all his problems as possible before they decided ‘fuck boundaries’ and came after him again.

He sighed as he locked himself in a cubicle and settled on the toilet lid. He knew he was being unfair and more than a little bit selfish but – well, Jesus Christ, he deserved to be, at this point! And he knew that was a stupid thing to say, because he knew that just because bad stuff happened, that didn’t give you the right to be a dick, but... Well, come on! He’d been through enough. He’d had his share of bullshit and drama and feelings he didn’t want. It wasn’t _fair_ anymore. He just needed some space. Some time to think, to let his brain cool down and recharge and process all the shit going on in his life right now. He had the right to step back from the situation if he needed to. He knew that.

So then why did he feel so guilty about it?

Michael sighed, tilting his head back against the cool porcelain as frustrated tears welled in his eyes. This wasn’t a panic attack – he hadn’t had many of those, but he’d had enough to know what they felt like. It was like... A settled state of panic. Like his whole body had pins and needles, each and every nerve standing on end. It was like each hair on his body was prickling with fire, not enough to hurt, but enough to itch at the skin and make him grit his teeth in fear and frustration.

Please, he prayed desperately in his mind. Please, everything just stop.

And then his phone buzzed.

_New message from Jakey_D <3_

Michael scoffed at the contact name. It hadn’t been his choice – Jake had snatched his phone and added it, along with a really gross and not at all enticing picture of him sticking his tongue out at the camera. At first, it’d been annoying, but now... Well, the stupid heart was beginning to grow on him.

He sighed as he tapped on the message. If he didn’t answer, Jake would probably assume he were dead and start to seek vengeance.

 _I know I fucked up,_ the message read. _And I’m still not 100% sure what I did wrong, but I’m sorry. I won’t try to fix everything anymore. I know this isn’t really a fixable situation. But I’ll try to be here for you and listen, if you want me to. Or I’ll just shut up. Totally your call. Sorry again._

Michael chuckled tearfully at the message. He cradled his phone to his chest, like if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to tuck the stupidly sweet words near his heart and keep them for a rainy day.

It was a nice thought. One that he wanted to hold on to. Those kinds of thoughts had become rare to him, now, but he was grateful for this one.

 _You didn’t fuck up_. He replied. _I mean, you did, but like, not intentionally, so you’re still cool. And don’t be sorry. Like I said, I’m just weird today. Everything’s really fucked right now. But thank you. Yknow, for trying._

His phone buzzed in a matter of seconds. Michael felt his lips quirk into a smile as he wondered whether Jake had just been sitting there under the bleachers, waiting for his phone to buzz with a response.

He hoped he hadn’t kept him waiting too long.

_Well, sorry everything’s fucked, then. I know I’m probably not helping, but if you want, I do have a whole folder full of cat memes if you want them._

Michael laughed, then, because of _course_ Jake Dillinger had a folder full of cat memes on his phone. Of course that was one of the many surprises Jake Dillinger had thrown at him.

 _Yes please!!_ He responded eagerly. _Gimme that good kush!!_

_Kitty memes incoming!_

Michael giggled to himself as Jake began to spam him with cat memes. There were truly no words to describe what an absolute enigma he was. Every time Michael thought he was close to figuring him out, Jake threw another curveball at him.

Slowly, he felt the fiery itch begin to subside, the noises in his head begin to calm. He let out a long, slow breath through his nose.

He could think again.

oOo

“Damn, two days under the bleachers?” Jenna smirked as she followed Michael to his usual spot. “You and Jake get a divorce or something?”

“Shut up.” He scoffed, shoving her shoulder as they took a seat on the grass. “I just... I asked for some space, and he’s giving it to me.”

Jenna winced. “That’s rough, buddy.”

“Hey!” Michael laughed, swatting her away. “It was _sweet_ , thank you very much! He could see I was overwhelmed and he respected it. It was... It was a really nice thing of him to do, actually.”

“Uhh...” Jenna drawled. “You want me to leave you and your imaginary boyfriend alone, or...?”

“Shut up!” Michael scoffed. “We’re doing fine, is all.”

And that was the truth. They were doing fine. Honestly, Jake had been incredibly respectful of the whole thing, and Michael was grateful. He didn’t even need to say much – Jake had known he’d needed space and he’d provided it. He was... He was a good guy.

Michael squeaked as he felt his cheeks begin to flush. Just – just a good guy in general, he meant. It was nice, having a guy like Jake in his life. Someone funny and – well, kind of annoying, but still someone who respected him, nonetheless. He liked having him around.

“Well, I’m just gonna tell ya now.” Jenna sighed as she opened her thermos. “You’d better be careful with the amount of space you give that dude.”

“Oh, come _on_ , Jen.” Michael huffed, elbowing her gently. “You know he’s not that bad.”

“Yeah.” Jenna nodded. “But I also know he’s Jake Dillinger. He falls in and out of love like _that_.” She snapped her fingers. “I don’t wanna be a dick, but I did tell you. If he pulls anything, I’m killing him.”

“Well, I think you’ll find you don’t have to worry about Jake any time soon.” Michael chuckled.

Before Jenna could open her mouth to retort, a shrill voice sounded above them.

“I still can’t _believe_ you’re tiptoeing around him like this!”

Michael stiffened. “Is that-“

“Chloe Valentine?” Jenna frowned, tilting her head to gaze up at the seats above them. Sure enough, Chloe’s sequined skirt was up there, reflecting the light in sharp fractals. “What’s she doing here?”

“He wanted me to give him space.”

Michael’s mouth went dry. Jenna whipped around to face him.

 _“Jake!”_ She mouthed, as if Michael couldn’t already tell that his kind of fake boyfriend was up there talking to his _very real_ ex-girlfriend.

“So what?” Chloe scoffed. “He gives you an order and you drop to your knees?”

“Chlo, that is incredibly inappropriate and I can’t believe you’d even try to get details on mine and Michael’s private-“

“You know what I mean!” Chloe snapped.

Jenna muffled her laughter in her sleeve.

“You’re rubbing off on him...” She whispered, before turning her attention back to the people above them.

“I just don’t get it, Jake!” Chloe huffed. Michael could sense the way she was folding her arms. “It’s like we’re barely together anymore!”

“Because we’re not.” Jake said firmly, the same tone he’d used with Jeremy only yesterday. “You broke up with me, remember?”

“You know what I mean, Jake, come on!” Chloe snapped. “We don’t even hang out anymore! It’s like we never even dated!”

“Because we broke up.” Jake repeated insistently. _“You’re_ the one who did it.”

“This sounds private...” Michael mumbled. He made to stand up, but Jenna grabbed his arm.

“Are you kidding?!” She hissed. “That’s your boyfriend! Look, I know you’re new to this stuff, but when your boyfriend talks to his ex, you _freak!”_

“But I don’t-!”

“Chloe, you can’t keep doing this to me!” Jake huffed. “I’m not at your beck and call anymore, and Michael isn’t some guy you can intimidate into submission, so just leave us alone!”

Wait. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Jake was supposed to want Chloe to want him back. He was supposed to enjoy this attention. Surely he was just pretending? There was no way he’d actually be this pissed that Chloe wanted to get back together.

“He’s not coming to your Halloween party.” Chloe said. It wasn’t a question – it was a demand. Michael wondered how used she was to getting her way.

“Yes, he is.” Jake said firmly. “Because he’s my boyfriend and I want him to be there.”

Michael desperately tried to ignore the way his spine tingled at the word ‘boyfriend’.

“Oh, come on, you seriously can’t think you’ll last longer than Halloween!” Chloe sneered. Jake was silent. Michael held his breath.

“No way.” She growled. “You are _not_ bringing him on the ski trip, Jake, that is _our thing-“_

“What does it matter?!” Jake snapped. “You have a boyfriend!”

“Well, yes, but-!” Chloe cut herself off. For a moment, Michael thought Jake might’ve won.

Then he saw Chloe’s silhouette edge closer to Jake’s.

“Maybe by then... I won’t.”

Michael’s stomach dropped. Jenna smothered her shriek of outrage, her hand clamping around Michael’s wrist painfully. She gaped at him with an unspoken “are you hearing this?!” and Michael kind of wanted to snap _yes_ , Jenna, he was hearing this, this had been the plan the whole time, so why the _fuck_ was he feeling so pissed about it?!

 “I’m going to lunch.” Jake declared, his shadow disappearing as he rose to his feet. “Don’t follow me.”

The two stayed silent as Jake stormed off the bleachers. After a minute, Chloe’s shadow vanished as well; her usually poised steps replaced with angered stomps.

“Dude.” Jenna murmured, turning to Michael in disbelief. “Chloe’s after your man.”

As those words reached his ears, Michael swore his heart stopped beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't really like the 'two guys fighting over someone' trope (or any love triangle trope, really) so i just want to clarify that this isn't a love triangle trope. jeremy finally has to share his best friend with someone and he doesn't like it. michael has always been a constant for him and now he's faced with the possibility that michael isn't always going to be there for him and that scares him. this isn't an 'oh no, i just realized i like this boy and now he's being stolen from me' it's more like 'the one constant in my life is leaving and that makes me feel scared'. of course, it is unfair that jeremy only starts coming back to michael once christine is gone, and yes, i am going to bring that up in a later chapter, but for now, angst. 
> 
> some clarification for michael's actions: it's clear that michael doesn't want to talk to jeremy. he wants their friendship back but he knows the way he's being treated is unfair and he wants to start their friendship again on his grounds, not just when it's convenient for jeremy. then there's jake. jake acting like he cares about him when michael knows he doesn't is making him feel even more stressed now that he's faced with the possibility that oh crap, maybe this whole thing means more to him than he thought it does. he doesn't want jake to protect him anymore for two reasons: one, because he knows jake doesn't really mean it, and two, because, as i said, he wants to fix this friendship on HIS terms. he doesn't want it to be forced by ANYONE, including jake. jake doesn't know how michael's feeling. he can't act like he knows all about it and try to fix it because he doesn't really know what he's talking about. michael doesnt want jeremy to be scared away, especially not by jake. he didn't want to have that confrontation at that point. he wants to do things his way in his own time. i hope people understand that michael was in the right here, even if his words were harsh.
> 
> this was kind of the last chapter i had saved in my docs. with executive dysfunction and GCSE's and everything it's getting very hard to write and now i'm very much behind schedule. there might be some weeks where i just don't update and i'm sorry for that. i'll try to write as much as i can.


	8. Wanting To Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was fine. Totally fine. Better than fine, really. This was how the plan was supposed to go the whole time. He and Jake would make Chloe jealous, she’d go back to Jake, Jeremy would forget Michael had feelings for him, they could be friends again, then Jake and Michael could ‘break up’ and pretend all of the whole fake-dating bullshit never even happened.
> 
> So why did even thinking about Chloe and Jake’s conversation on the bleachers make Michael feel physically ill?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, updating schedule is completely out the window at this point, HOWEVER, i do feel like i'm more on track and i better understand the way i want this story to go, so that's good.
> 
> warning for pokemon: mewtwo strikes back spoilers because THAT MOVIE IS A CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE

This was fine. Totally fine. Better than fine, really. This was how the plan was supposed to go the whole time. He and Jake would make Chloe jealous, she’d go back to Jake, Jeremy would forget Michael had feelings for him, they could be friends again, then Jake and Michael could ‘break up’ and pretend all of the whole fake-dating bullshit never even happened.

So why did even thinking about Chloe and Jake’s conversation on the bleachers make Michael feel physically ill?

He knew that if he and Jake really were dating, if all the lingering touches and gentle smiles were actually real, he could just chalk it all down to jealousy, but – well, it wasn’t. He and Jake weren’t together, they were just pretending. They didn’t actually like each other and they both knew it. So it couldn’t be that Michael was jealous that Chloe wanted to get back together with his boyfriend – _fake_ boyfriend, his _fake_ boyfriend – but then what could it be?

Maybe it was that he and Jake had been getting closer the past two weeks. Jake had been respectful of Michael’s want for privacy, but once he’d lifted the ban and told Jake he’d had enough space, he’d gone right back to slinging an affectionate arm over his shoulder at lunch and tucking his hand into Michael’s pocket whenever he could. He hadn’t stopped with the notes, either, not even when Michael had asked for space – they’d be shoved in his locker or tucked in a textbook, whatever Jake could find, really. Michael had never read them (it wasn’t like Jake would’ve written anything meaningful on them anyways) but he made a show of smiling at them and tucking them carefully in his pocket whenever Chloe was around. That was probably what Jake would’ve wanted. Besides, it felt fun to watch her seeth.

Yeah, that was probably it. He and Jake were friends now, and it was fun. Very fun. Like, more fun than Michael had had in a _while_ type of fun. And he knew he’d always been a bit protective of his friends, so... It made sense that he was feeling a little iffy now that Chloe was moving in on Jake again. But that was okay. Just because Chloe was getting back with Jake, that didn’t mean they had to stop being friends. They could still talk and hang out, just... With less closeness. And touching. And hands in back pockets. That’s just what friends did.

(But if that was the case, then why was his stomach still twisting?)

oOo

“Can I ask you something?” Jake asked as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. They were parked in Michael’s driveway. Taylor had already bounced into the house to tell their moms about his English project, but Michael could tell that Jake had wanted to talk to him, so he’d lagged behind. He didn’t know why he noticed that kind of stuff – the way Jake tapped on the wheel or nibbled at his lip or cleared his throat every so often – but he just did. It was helpful, especially when needing to talk to someone, but he didn’t really get it. Maybe it was just another weird friend thing.

“Since when do you ask if you can ask something?” Michael smirked. “We both know you don’t believe in boundaries.”

He tried to ignore all thoughts going back to the lacrosse field kiss.

“Well – yeah, I know.” Jake stammered, making Michael frown. Jake did not stammer. “It’s just – I know we’re done with the whole space thing, but like, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything-“

“Dude, it’s okay.” Michael smiled, nudging his arm with his fist. “We’re good now. Just ask, yeah?”

“Okay.” Jake smiled. “Well, um – Halloween’s coming up, and I normally have a Halloween _party_ , so-“

“You want me to go?” Michael frowned. “Jake...”

“I know you’re not good with parties.” Jake said gently. “You told me that, I get it. So I’m not gonna force you just because it was in the contract. Fuck the contract. If you’re feeling anxious, you don’t have to go. End of.”

Michael blinked owlishly. Fuck the contract? Spoken by the guy who had notoriously stuck to all of his rules? Well, except for the eating together one – they had to take a small break from that. But they were back at it now! Still, it was nice of Jake to be so considerate.

“Thanks.” Michael smiled. “I’ll think about it. Oh!” He turned around quickly from where he was reaching for the door. “Do you wanna have that movie night thing we talked about?”

Jake jumped ever so slightly – just a tiny nudge, a hint of a jump. Michael felt an odd swell of pride that he’d been able to notice it. He wondered if Chloe had been able to notice those little nudge-jumps. If she’d ever been able to see Jake’s little ticks and translate what they meant.

He needed to stop thinking about Chloe.

“You sure? You never seem very comfortable with me in your house.”

“Well, once you shotgun with a dude and spoon him for three hours straight, it’s kinda hard to not have him on house-entering terms.” Michael shrugged. “C’mon – the moms are having date night in the living room, so we’ll have to go to my room again.”

“Dope!” Jake grinned as they hopped out of the car. “You can show me your paintings!”

“Hah, no.” Michael laughed sharply.

“Aww, c’mon, Mell!” Jake whined, tugging on Michael’s hood wantonly. “Lemme see your pretty paintings!”

“I don’t give up my paintings on the second date!” Michael gasped in false scandal. “Try buying me dinner and we’ll see.”

“Seriously?” Jake smiled, eyebrows quirked and eyes soft.

“I mean, if you bring some nuggets from McDonalds, that’ll be good payment, but-“

“No, I mean...” He nodded vaguely at the house interior. “This... This is a date?”

Michael swallowed, ignoring the way his heart sped up slightly.

“I, uh...” He mumbled. “S-Sure, if you want it to be. I mean, that’s what couples do, right?”

“Uh.” Jake’s smile grew slowly. “Yeah, I... I guess it is...”

“You’ll have to put a picture of it on Snapchat, though.” Michael said quickly as he busied himself with the kitchen cabinets, forcing himself not to look at Jake’s face.

“Um.” Jake frowned. “What now?”

“I mean, Instagram’ll work, too, but I checked and you have more followers on Snapchat, so more people’ll see it if we post it on there.” Michael said as he grabbed a few packs of chips and some cookies. “Y’know, if we really wanna sell it.”

“Oh. Oh!” Jake said, his smile suddenly dropping. “Yeah, yeah, right. Sell it.”

“I’ll put the pizza in the oven first, that way we can set the food up and make it look like a proper date.”

“Hm?” Jake said noncommittally from where he was standing. “Uh – yeah. Sure.”

Michael frowned and turned around to look at him properly. It was funny – Jake looked so out of place in such a humble kitchen, all bright colours and leopard print starkly contrasting the rustic counter tops and herbs dangling from the ceiling.

“C’mon, dork.” Michael chuckled, bumping him with his hip as he scooted past him to the stairs. “You wanna pick the movie, or should I?”

“You can.” Jake’s voice was weirdly quiet.

“Dude.” Michael said gently, turning around to place his hands on Jake’s shoulders. “Are you good? Did I upset you or something?”

Jake blinked, as if Michael’s soft touch had shattered him from his thoughts.

“Wh- I, uh...” He mumbled, his cheeks tinting red as he glanced at Michael’s hands on his arms. “I – Sorry.” He sighed, stepping away from Michael’s touch. Michael’s brow furrowed as his hands felt suddenly cold. Jake had been warm. He’d wanted to hold onto him, even just for a little longer. “I’m just... Weird today. My head’s all funny.”

“Dork.” Michael snorted, rapping Jake’s forehead with his knuckles. “And you tell me not to think so much. C’mon, I’ll put on the Pokémon movie – the sheer awesomeness of MewTwo is sure to snap you out of your weirdness.”

Jake chuckled as Michael pulled him into the basement.

“If you say so.”

oOo

“Wait, whoa, _what?!”_ Jake cried in disbelief. “Did they just die?! The little kid and the cute little animal buddies in a kids film just _died?!”_

“Yep.” Taylor nodded. “And they weren’t actually kids and animal buddies – they were the salvaged consciousnesses of the other clones. MewTwo was the only stable one so he didn’t decompose and die, but they did.”

“This is traumatic!”

“That’s what makes it cool, Jakey.” Michael grinned, gesturing at the screen. “I mean, look at this shit! How cool is this?”

“They’re making him forget all the time he spent with his friends!” Jake cried as the animated characters began to sedate the aggressive clone. “This is, like, the _saddest_ thing I’ve ever watched! And I saw the school production of Romeo and Juliet! Twice!”

“Aw, Chrissie was so good in that!” Tay smiled fondly. “We should find the tape of the bows later.”

“You mean victory dances.”

“I mean bows, but whatever works. Now _shh_ , let’s watch!” Taylor hissed. “This is the cool part!”

“The other part wasn’t the cool part?”

“It’s all cool.” Michael grinned. “Check it, he’s destroying the base! Go MewTwo!”

“I’m sorry, we’re _siding_ with the homicidal clone weapon thingy here?”

“I can appreciate when something’s dope, Jakey.” Michael snorted, elbowing him gently. Jake whined in protest, making Michael scoff and lean into his side to shut him up. “Shush, I’m tired. Now watch!”

Jake just nodded silently. It was small, but Michael was certain he could feel Jake’s arm curving slowly around his waist. It wasn’t bad. It was actually... Strangely comforting. Michael felt a small smile tracing his lips. He sighed contently, snuggling into Jake’s side.

“Watch the movie, stupid.”

Jake snorted, nudging Michael’s hair with his cheek. _“You’re_ stupid.”

“You’re both stupid and your love is disgusting.” Tay grimaced. “Now can we _please_ watch Ash have a Pokémon battle?”

oOo

_“We do have a lot in common. The same Earth, the same air, the same sky. Maybe if we started looking at what’s the same, instead of always looking at what’s different... Well, who knows?”_

Jake gaped at the screen in awe.

“Did...” He mumbled in disbelief. “Did the most profound thing I’ve ever heard just come from the mouth of a talking cat?”

“Meowth.” Tay and Michael corrected.

“Whatever!” Jake snorted, pinching Michael’s waist playfully. “You know what I mean, I – shit, this movie’s _deep!”_

“I told you.” Michael grinned triumphantly. “The best movie of all time!”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Jake smirked. “You still haven’t watched Sixteen Candles yet.”

“Please, I’d like to see Molly Ringwald blow up a lab.”

“Shhh!” Taylor whispered frantically. “Cool scene! Pay attention!”

oOo

“Ash _dies?!”_

“Technically!” Michael protested. “To save Pikachu!”

“I cannot _believe_ this is a kids film!” Jake cried, practically clinging to Michael’s waist for comfort. “He just _died!_ To save his buddy! I swear to god, I am going to cry!”

“Keep watching!” Taylor insisted as he smiled at the screen. “Ugh, I love this part!!”

“The part where he _dies?!”_

“No, _this_ part!” Taylor laughed, pointing at the scene on the TV. “See?”

“Oh my god.” Jake whispered as he buried his face in Michael’s shoulder. “They’re bringing him back with their magical Poké-tears. Oh my god, I’m gonna cry.”

 _“I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant.”_ MewTwo said on the screen. _“It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.”_

“And I’m crying.” Jake sniffed, burying his face further into Michael’s hoodie. “Oh my god, I’m crying over a Pokémon movie. I hate you. I hate life.”

“Aww, ya big baby.” Michael chuckled fondly as he reached up to pet Jake’s hair in a comforting manner. “Poor baby can’t handle some Pokémon.”

“Fuck you.” Jake replied with no real bite. “Fuck. I miss my trading cards. I want my Houndour back.”

“Nerd!” Michael gasped, twisting around so he could poke Jake’s stomach accusingly. “You had trading cards! You were a nerd!”

“I did have a childhood, Mike, everyone had trading cards back then!” Jake snorted, swatting his hand away. “Even Brooke had a little Togepi card!”

“You know the names!!” Michael cried in delight. “You know Pokémon! You’re a hot Pokémon fan, how is this possible?!”

“Shut up, dorkus!” Jake laughed, tugging on Michael’s shoulders so he fell into his lap. “You’re way more of a nerd than I am!”

“Nerd, nerd, nerd!” Michael grinned, poking his face with each claim. “You, Jake Dillinger, are a full on loser geek nerd! I bet you have a Disney movie collection, too!”

“Everyone likes Disney!” Jake retorted, huffing when Michael began to squeal with laughter. “Okay, you earned this!”

“Earned what, the knowledge that you’re a big old nerd?” Michael smirked, but immediately stopped when he saw Jake raise his fingers threateningly. “Wait. Wait, Jacob, think about what you’re doing-“

“Attack!” Jake declared as he began to dig his fingers into Michael’s sides. “Face my wrath, Michael!”

“No!” Michael cried as Jake aggressively tickled his ribs. “No no no – Jake!”

“Vengeance!”

“Stop!” Michael wheezed between giggles. “Stop, stop!”

“Never!” Jake declared, following Michael as he tried to scramble away and pinning him to the couch. “This is what you deserve, fool!”

“I surrender!” Michael cried, breathless from laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re not a nerd, you’re a cool sexy jock man who is not a nerd in the slightest!”

Jake smirked, slowing his tickling and raising an expectant eyebrow. “And?”

Michael sighed dramatically. “And everyone likes Disney.”

“Thank you.” Jake grinned triumphantly, but did not make any move to get off of him. It was then Michael realized that, shit, he had just been cuddling Jake, he had just been in Jake’s lap, Jake had just been tickling him senseless. And now Jake was on top of him, the same solid weight he’d been when they’d shotgunned together. He could almost remember the way Jake’s breath on his lips had felt.

Wait, no. That was his actual breath. They were actually that close.

Like a couple. That was what couples did. They were comfortable and touchy and laughed together and tickled each other and sat in each other’s laps and held each other and they didn’t even need to think before they did those things because it was _natural_. Not a planned pretend. Just a natural way of life.

Michael forced Jake off of him and pulled himself into a sitting position, pulling his legs to his chest in an almost defensive manner.

“Um.” He mumbled quietly as he scooted to the other end of the couch. “Where’s Tay?”

“Oh, uh.” Jake’s voice sounded kind of scratchy. Like a CD that’d been pulled out of it’s tray before it’d been fully ejected. “I think he left when we started being all couple-y.”

Tay hadn’t been there. He hadn’t watched. They hadn’t needed to sell the act.

Had it even been an act?

“W-Well, at least we know he bought it then, huh?” Michael smiled awkwardly, though it felt more like a grimace. “He, uh – he can’t stand couple-y stuff. So we know he believes it, and we know my family won’t ask questions. That’s, um. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded quickly before Michael had even finished. “Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Super great.”

Michael cleared his throat awkwardly. That... That had to have been more than just pretending. Friend’s didn’t just do that – he and Jeremy had _never_ done that. Sure, they’d laughed together and tickled each other and been quite touchy together, that’s what best friends did, but... It had never been like that. Michael would usually feel alarm bells ringing in his head whenever Jeremy did anything even close to what he and Jake had just done, and Jeremy would always back away before he reached any further and apologise, which would just make Michael feel awkward. But this? This had been anything but awkward. Michael hadn’t felt alarmed or anticipating or... Anything. It’d just felt natural. Like it was supposed to be that way.

He wondered if Jake had felt it, too. The sheer naturalness of it all. How it all fit together, perfectly meant to be. He wondered how he’d ever be able to ask that.

“I’ll walk you out.” He said quietly, rising to his feet.

Close enough.

“I did have fun tonight.” Jake said gently once they reached the front door. “I like having movie nights with you.”

“You’ve only had one.” Michael scoffed, raising an eyebrow as he opened the door for him.

“And I already know.” Jake said smoothly – not his typical smooth, the kind where his voice was dripping with honey and wine and girls swooned whenever he spoke. No, this was a different kind of smooth, a kind that Michael had been noticing more and more the more time he spent with Jake. It was like a natural rhythm they had whenever they were together – he’d say something, and Jake would give the perfect response without even thinking about it. It wasn’t like they had the same mind or anything, like how it felt when he was talking to Jeremy – this was like their minds were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together perfectly.

Michael didn’t know how to deal with that thought.

“I think you’d be the first.” He laughed stiffly once he’d realized he’d been quiet for too long. “My family hates all the running commentary I give. I can’t tell you how many times Jeremy’s thrown a pillow at me to get me to shut up.”

Jake’s eyes darkened slightly once Michael said that, though he didn’t know why. He was just proud he’d noticed another tick of his.

“He shouldn’t.” Jake said quietly. “He should like to hear what you think.”

Michael frowned slightly. “N-No, he does.” He said awkwardly. “He just... He gets distracted easily and I ramble a lot and it’s annoying and-“

“It’s not.” Jake cut across him. “I like hearing you thoughts. You’re funny and you’re smart and...” He trailed off, blinking slightly as he gazed at Michael with widened eyes. He cleared his throat quietly, opening and closing his mouth in tentative motions, as if, in that moment, he wasn’t even sure how to speak. “And I like listening to you.”

“Oh.” Michael said simply, because what else could he say? “Well, um-“ He smiled awkwardly. “That’s good, huh? Considering we’re probably gonna be stuck with each other until the ski trip.”

Jake flinched, except it wasn’t quite a flinch – it was a twitch of his eye, a jump of his cheek, a hint of a flinch that Michael could only just pick up on.

“I’m not...” He sighed and shook his head. “Nothing, never mind. I’m tired. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said quickly, shooting Michael a quick smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Trust me, I’m just tired and – _way_ too emotional about Pokémon.”

“I get that.” Michael shrugged, smiling back. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Neither of them moved from where they stood.

“I...” Jake frowned. “I really have to go...”

“Oh, I know!” Michael said quickly. “I’m not – I’m not trying to keep you, or anything-“

“No, I-“ Jake blinked rapidly. “I don’t _want_...”

He clenched and unclenched his fist rapidly before darting forward and pulling Michael into a tight hug. Michael let out a small squeak of surprise, but quickly wrapped his arms around Jake’s waist and held him close. He was just so _warm_. Michael had always thought Jake would be all hard and rough around the edges what with all hard muscle he’d built from all his sports, but... He was actually really soft. Soft and solid and secure and all other words beginning with ‘S’. And Michael liked it. Really... _Really_ liked it.

“Sorry.” Jake said quietly as he pulled away, allowing the bitter autumn cold to bite Michael’s fingers and leaving him with fleeting, tingly warmth on his waist. “I just...”

“Emotional?” Michael smiled reassuringly. “I told you, I get it.”

Jake looked about ready to protest, but he just sighed and smiled again – that bitter little half smile that refused to meet his eyes.

“I’ll see you at school.” He said gently, allowing the words to drift on the fall breeze before turning and walking away to his car.

 Michael sighed as he shut the door behind him. He walked into the living room in a daze and flopped onto the couch face first. He lay for a few moments before a wet nose nudged at his cheek, whining softly for attention.

“Hey, Meggie.” He smiled as he stroked his dogs soft ears. “Don’t mind me, girl. I’m just... Weird. And I don’t know why.”

Nutmeg cocked her head, the same way Christine used to do when she was-

Michael sighed. Christine.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, opened his contacts app and winced at all the missed messages she’d sent. He’d turned off alerts on her contact – he didn’t know why, but he just had. He just... He couldn’t bear to respond to her texts, and then seeing the alerts popping up were just a constant reminder of oh, hey, he’s a shitty person who was in love with his sister’s boyfriend and is now lying to said sister and everyone else and-

Was. He’d said, ‘ _was_ in love with’. Past tense.

Slowly, he began to type.

 _I’m sorry for not responding_. He tapped onto the keypad. _I’m sorry for a lot of things. I haven’t been a good brother lately and I sure as hell haven’t been a good person. I know you want me to be a good role model for Tay. I know you want a lot of things from me. But I don’t think I can do it. Any of it._

He took a deep, shuddery breath. His face tensed, like he wanted to cry, but couldn’t remember how.

 _I know I’m letting you down._ He continued, breaths heavy and laboured. _I’ve been letting down a lot of people lately. And I don’t know how to stop because I don't know what these people want from me. All I know is that I have to behave in certain ways and do certain things that I don’t want to do because I need people to think something that isn’t true because I lied, I lied about everything even though I swore I could talk to you about anything and all I want to do is-_

He paused in his typing. He rose his thumbs to the keypad. Drew them back.

His phone buzzed beneath his fingers.

 _Michael?_ Christine’s text read. _Are you there?_

He sighed, deleting the message and dropping his phone to the carpeted floor.

He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i like making michael suffer
> 
> hhhh there's a lot i don't like about this chapter but i wanted them to have more bonding time with tay and then i kind of abandoned it but i like the end result but i don't like how it got there but i don't wanna go back and change it,,,,
> 
> ugh. imma just leave it.


	9. Rad Excuse, Mad Abuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael felt his stomach drop.
> 
> Suddenly, everything was too loud. The beat of the music burst throw Michael’s chest, settling in his bones and sending thrums of painful energy through his veins. His brain turned into sludge in his head, bubbling and swelling until it was throbbing against his skull as his nerves all stood on end, static and sensitive and so, so painful-
> 
> He needed to get out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a very long time  
> exams are a pain in the ass right now so i hope that explains why this update took forever. i'm in the middle of exams rn and it is,,, not fun. but!! this one is longer than usual!! so hopefully you'll enjoy!!

“Boo!” Michael yelled, tossing popcorn at the computer screen. “Fuck you, Gretchen, her costume’s amazing!”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never watched Mean Girls.” Jake scoffed from where they were sat on Michael’s bed. They’d forgone the TV, as neither of them had Mean Girls on DVD, and had to settle for a streaming site while praying for Michael’s laptop to not get any viruses.

 _(“I’ll pay to get it fixed.”_ Jake had offered when Michael winced at the amount of pop-ups.

 _“Shut up.”_ Michael had muttered, refusing to acknowledge the butterflies in his stomach.)

“Just be glad I’m enjoying it.” Michael huffed, elbowing Jake’s stomach. “Janis is totally a lesbian, by the way.”

“Mm.” Jake seesaws his hand. “In the musical, definitely. I think she’s bi in the movie, though.”

“Fair.” Michael shrugged, leaning into Jake’s side. “Stay still, I’m getting comfy!”

“Nerd.” Jake scoffed, leaning his cheek on Michael’s head. “Stop talking, the Halloween party is a _very_ important scene!”

Michael rolled his eyes, settling down on top of Jake’s firm chest. After the success of their last movie night, they’d decided to have another, and given that it was Jake’s turn to choose, he’d of course chosen Mean Girls. This did mean Taylor had been banished to his room, but he didn’t seem to mind much – he just rose his eyebrows and told them not to do anything gross, which had left Michael flustered and Jake delighted for a solid twenty minutes after.

If Michael was honest... He kind of liked spending time with Jake. Actually, scratch the ‘kind of’ – he liked spending time with Jake. Jake was funny, and good to talk to, and yeah, had some pretty good taste in movies. Michael didn’t understand why he’d been so adverse to him before. Because Jake was popular? Maybe. Michael had always had a vendetta against popular people – they just seemed so _fake_ , hiding behind their “everything’s fine, we’re cool!” personas and acting like life was just _easy_. It wasn’t. It felt like for them, everything was easy and perfect with no struggles at all. For people like Michael? It was hell. The best he could was just wake up with a smile and a boatload of confidence to get him through the day.

Jake wasn’t fake, though. Jake was one hundred percent genuine. Maybe he wasn’t popular because he hid behind a façade. Maybe he was just a genuinely nice guy.

Michael snorted quietly. There was no maybe about it. Jake was a good person, and Michael liked being around him.

“Hey.” He said quietly. “Speaking of Halloween parties... What should I wear to yours?”

Jake jolted, his head perking up with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Michael bit back a laugh – he really was just a big puppy.

“You wanna go?” Jake asked tentatively. Michael felt his insides melt. “Because you don’t have to if you don’t want to-“

“I do.” Michael smiled reassuringly. “I want to go.”

“Oh.” A grin spread across Jake’s face. “Well – awesome! Uh, most people generally wear costumes, but like, you can just wear anything Halloween-y if you want, like anything black, green or orange’ll do.”

“Gotcha.” Michael nodded. “Should we do a couples costume?”

Jake snorted. “You’d be down for that?”

“Not really.” Michael shrugged. “But it’d give people something to talk about.”

Jake’s smile faltered.

“Uh. Yeah.” He laughed quietly, but it sounded strained. “I don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, I-“ Michael frowned at Jake’s sudden change in mood. “I didn’t mean to imply you would. I’m – I’m sorry if I-“

“Don’t be.” Jake said quickly, shooting him a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just being weird. Wear what you want, party starts at nine.”

“Whack.” Michael nodded. “Okay, lemme get comfy again.”

“Needy.” Jake snorted.

“Oh, I’ll show you needy-“

“Shh!” Jake hissed, pointing at the screen. “Important scene, important scene!”

Michael gasped. “Oh, Regina is _not_ stealing her man!”

“You bet your ass she is!”

“Sidebar, what’s so appealing about Aaron anyways?”

“Michael, my man.” Jake sighed, clapping Michael’s shoulder. “You are asking an age old question that no one knows the answer to. Just sit back and enjoy the movie magic.”

oOo

It was loud.

 _Of course it’s loud,_ a part of Michael sneered bitterly. _It’s a party, what did you expect?_

Jake had said the party would start at nine. It was only nine o-five. Maybe people had come early. Should he have come early? Jake had said to come _now_ , but maybe it would’ve been more considerate to come earlier – after all, Michael was supposed to be his boyfriend...

He grimaced, looking down at his clothes. He’d thought his CREEPS shirt and some cargo shorts would fit the party criteria, but looking at the people through the window, it seemed like everyone had gone all out with dressing up. How had they all known to go over-the-top with the costumes? How did they all know the right style, the right way to dance, _how?_ God, maybe he should just go home and-

“Michael!”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“I figured you’d show up about now.” Jake grinned, adjusting his wig – yes, _wig_ – as he walked onto the front lawn. “Sixth sense or whatever. Maybe I’m psychic. Or you-sic. I dunno.”

“I think I’m late.” Michael said quietly.

 _“Fashionably_ late, Mikey!” Jake reassured. He seemed even more self-confident, if that was even possible. “It makes all the difference!”

“That’s true.” Michael nodded slowly. Yeah, it was true. He’d never cared about being a few minutes late for a class, or for meeting up at Jeremy’s house. What difference did one party make?

“Okay.” He said firmly. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

“Hold up a second.” Jake grabbed his shoulders quickly and examined him up and down. Michael swallowed, a small knot forming in his stomach.

“What are you doing?” He huffed, tapping his foot against the driveway. He didn’t understand how Jake could make him feel so exposed with just a quick look, but he didn’t like it.

“One moment...” Jake murmured as he circled Michael carefully. “Aha!” He grinned, plucking Michael’s headband from his head and holding it triumphantly. “Now you’re perfect!”

“Um, no!” Michael said quickly, trying to grab the headband back. Jake just clicked his tongue teasingly, using his extra four inches to keep the headband just out of reach.

“C’mon, it’s just a headband!”

“No, it’s not!” Michael cried, his patience quickly wearing thin. “Just – give it back, I need it!”

“What do you need a headband for?” Jake scoffed fondly. “You look cute like this.”

Oh. Well. Hm.

“And besides, since when do you care how you look?” Jake snorted. “Uh – no offense!” He said quickly. “I didn’t mean – it’s just, y’know, you’re so confident. Sure of yourself, y’know?”

Michael jumped once he realized, oh shit, he was supposed to be saying words now. He shook his head quickly, as if he could shake away that weird fuzzy feeling that appeared whenever Jake gave him that fond look and a few nice words.

“Uh – sort of...” He mumbled. It wasn’t quite like that. He’d always known who and what he was – he was a loser. He knew that, everyone at school knew that. And he liked it that way. He liked having his own space, doing his own thing, not having to be bothered by the curse of popularity and keeping up appearances, or having to worry about what people thought of him because, well, he already _knew_ what they thought of him. It was freeing, in a way. He didn’t feel the pressure to keep his status because he didn’t have any. He didn’t feel like he had to look his best every day because no one _cared_ how he looked every day. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know what people said about him. He wasn’t naïve. He knew what people said. He knew it hurt, just a little, near that small part of his heart he kept locked up and out of sight. He’d shrug it off with a smile and a laugh because, well – there was no point doing otherwise. Maybe deep down, he wanted to know what it was like to have people be excited to see him. Maybe he wanted to be able to talk to people and act like he belonged with them. He just knew it wasn’t going to happen.

He furrowed his brow. He’d never felt like this when he’d had Jeremy. At least then he’d had one person who knew how it felt to be a loser. Who he could interact with and carry the burden with. A player two. Now that he didn’t have that anymore... Being a loser felt a lot more lonely than it had before.

“Hey.” Jake said gently, his eyes tender and concerned. “If you’re really uncomfortable, I can give it back. I wasn’t trying to-“

“It’s okay.” Michael smiled as best he could. He could be strong. He didn’t need Jeremy. Jeremy shouldn’t be his be-all end-all. He could easily exist without a player two. He could be strong, just like he always was. “Seriously, I’m... I’m fine.”

It wasn’t a total lie.

“Okay.” Jake nodded. “So long as you’re sure.”

Michael smiled, running a hand through his hair self-consciously.

“I’m sure.”

Jake blinked, eyes wide.

“Don’t. Move.”

Michael froze. Fuck. Was there something on his hands he hadn’t notice? He’d been stress eating Halloween candy before he left, maybe he’d gotten some nougat in his hair by mistake. Or maybe there was a wasp. Fuck, he hoped there wasn’t a wasp.

“Why?” He asked, freezing in place. “Am I in danger?”

Jake’s phone made a quick shutter noise.

“This is my background now.” He said, flipping his phone so Michael could see the picture of himself. He was smiling awkwardly, his nervousness evident, and without his headband, his hair flopped over his forehead limply. It looked different – kind of fluffy. He was peering up over his glasses, which were low on his nose, and his face was tinged pink from the nerves and the cold. Michael hated to say it, but... He actually looked sort of cute.

“What filter did you use on that?” He frowned, pushing his glasses further up. Jack scoffed, flicking his forehead.

“No filter, stupid, just you.” He smiled fondly, pocketing his phone. “Here, gimme yours.

Michael handed his phone over wordlessly, though he couldn’t help his small grimace once he realized the difference in models. Michael’s family definitely wasn’t poor – his mother was a doctor, after all – but they weren’t rich, and stuff like phones and laptops were usually older models or hand-me-downs. Jake’s phone was a new model, probably the latest one. Michael had never really cared about stuff like phone models before, but it was a little embarrassing watching a trust-fund rich kid like Jake trying to figure out how to take a selfie on his old Samsung.

Jake grinned once he figured out how to switch the camera to selfie mode, throwing up a peace sign and sticking his tongue out impishly.

“There.” He smiled, handing the phone back. “You can set that as your background if you want to. Otherwise just put in on Instagram or something. If you want, I mean.”

“Such a gentleman.” Michael scoffed. He cleared his throat, holding out his arm. “Shall we?”

Jake snorted. “Seriously?”

“Shut up.” Michael muttered, face flushing. God, that was stupid, why did he _talk?_ “I don’t know what you do at parties.”

“I’ll show you.” Jake smiled, linking his arm around Michael’s. “C’mon! I want you to partner with me during beer pong.”

Michael swallowed as Jake lead him into the fray. He could be strong. He didn’t need to rely on anyone, he didn’t need to worry about the opinions of some stupid popular people.

He could be strong.

oOo

“So, what’s up with you and Jake?”

Michael blinked, looking up from where he’d been zoning out on the couch. The music was loud and everyone was screaming, so he hadn’t been able to fully dissolve into his daydream state. He’d just heard a song he knew come on the speakers and tried to remember the music video to it. It’d worked for a little while – he’d managed to dull the yelling into too-loud background noise and focus mostly on the song, but then Brooke had decided to sit down next to him. Nothing against Brooke, of course – Michael had always thought that, out of the popular kids, she was probably the nicest. But, then again, the popular kids had kind of been throwing him in a loop lately – Rich not turning out to be a total bully, Jake being a genuinely fun person... Maybe Brooke wasn’t all she seemed, either.

“Um. Hi?” He said awkwardly, raising his eyebrows. Had no one ever taught the popular kids how to properly start a conversation?

“Hi.” Brooke smiled. “What’s up with you and Jake?”

Michael sighed. He’d tried his best.

“We’re dating.” He said shortly, voice clipped. “Kinda figured that much was obvious.”

“Ooh, the queen’s catty.” A familiar voice sneered as Chloe Valentine sat down next to Brooke. “It’s a party, Mell. Lighten up.”

Michael grit his teeth at her comment.

“So.” Chloe said as she sipped her drink – some painfully pink and fruity looking thing. “Where’s Jake, then? I thought you two came together.”

“He’s getting me a drink.” Michael said smoothly, fighting a grin when he noticed her grip on her cup tighten. He rose an eyebrow at her sexy baby costume (read: _yikes),_ and decided against commenting on it – partly because he didn’t want to be a bitch to Jake’s ex, mostly because he didn’t want to be that kind of person. Instead, he smiled at Brooke. “I like your costume. It’s real original.”

Brooke practically lit up like a star.

“Right?!” She grinned, grabbing Michael’s arm. That was another thing he’d noticed – Brooke tended to get touchy when she was happy. He fought the urge to tense and shrug her away. Touch was a privilege to him, yes, but he didn’t want to hurt Brooke’s feelings. “I figured, you always see sexy cats, but you _never_ see sexy dogs!”

“Guess not.” Michael nodded. “I never really thought about it.”

“No one ever does.” Brooke grinned, patting his shoulder.

“Real original costume you have.” Chloe sneered, giving Michael a quick up-down. “CREEPS? That’s fitting. And by the way, no one wears cargo shorts anymore.”

Michael fought the urge to make a snide remark about her own costume. He refused to be that bitch.

“Well, I figured it’d be best to blend in.” He grinned instead, tapping the letters on his shirt. “And besides, cargo shorts make it easier to hide the weed. Too many pockets, y’know?” He patted his leg. “I’ve got a secret one inside the righty. That’s where I keep the good shit.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Is it true, though?”

“Brooke!”

“Sorry!” Brooke said quickly, folding her hands in her lap. Michael furrowed his brow. He’d always hated the way Chloe held her power over Brooke like that. Held her in line, forced her to behave or act properly. It reminded him of-

He shook his head quickly. No need to think of that now.

“So.” Chloe said easily, breezing past their conversation to a new subject. “You and Jake. What base?”

“Uh.” Michael frowned. “I don’t really follow sports...”

Chloe looked at him like he was an idiot. Brooke giggled airily.

“No, silly!” She smiled. “What _base?_ Y’know, shirts on or off? Hands down pants? Clothes? No clothes?”

“Um!” Michael squeaked, his face growing redder by the moment. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t say yes without asking Jake, what if he was uncomfortable with it? But then he couldn’t say no, Jake was a known player and they needed people to think the relationship was real! He swallowed heavily as his brain overloaded with information – Jake without a shirt, Jake on a bed, Jake without a shirt with _him_ on a bed – _oh god..._

“Forget it.” Chloe sighed, examining her nails. “They haven’t done anything.”

Michael tensed, fighting the indignant growl in the back of his throat.

“And how would you know?” He muttered.

“Because I know Jake.” Chloe shrugged, shooting him a withering look. “And I know Michael Mell.”

Michael narrowed his eyes.

“Name one thing you know about me other than the fact that I’m gay.” He said, voice cool and unwavering.

Chloe blinked, opening and closing her mouth awkwardly. She huffed, standing up sharply.

“I don’t need to answer to _you_ , thanks.” She snapped. “But just an FYI? It takes four minutes to walk into the kitchen, get a drink and come back. So why do you think Jake’s taking so long?”

Michael froze, a chill settling in his spine. He opened his mouth but closed it slowly, and Chloe’s eyes sparked with triumph.

“Thought so.” She smiled. “Come on, Brooke.”

Brooke frowned, tilting her head. “But I wanted to-“

“Brooke!”

“Coming!” Brooke squeaked, scurrying after her master. She managed to shoot Michael a small, discreet smile as she left, which he appreciated.

 _“Heyyy,_ baby!” Jake hollered as he collapsed onto the couch next to Michael. “I gotcha your drink!”

“Thanks?” Michael frowned as Jake wound an arm around him, leaning his cheek on Michael’s head. He took a sip of his root beer and wrinkled his nose once he smelled Jake’s clothes. “Why do you smell like beer?”

“Beer bong.” Jake shrugged. “Spilled a little.”

“So that’s what took you so long.” Michael said quietly. “Are – are you drunk?”

“Jus’ tipsy, ‘m good.” Jake smiled reassuringly. Michael didn’t trust the bleariness in his eyes. “Ooh, we should play beer pong next! You aim, I’ll drink?”

“Um.” Michael frowned. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“C’mon, it’ll be fine!” Jake scoffed, tugging him up from the couch. “Leggo!”

Michael frowned as Jake tugged him through the crowd of teens, the humidity causing his clothes to cling to him and chafe awkwardly. He swallowed as he watched Jake stumble ever so slightly, his steps just a little off-mark and his smile just a bit too wide.

He tried to shake the feeling that everything was about to go up in flames.

oOo

“Yeah, baby! That’s five, two more to go!” Jake whooped as Michael bounced the ball into the cup farthest to the left.

Dustin groaned as Madeline knocked back the red solo cup and downed the beer, giggling so much that some of the liquid spilled down her chin. Michael had been a little worried about playing against one of the recipients of his letters, but Dustin must’ve noticed his panic, because he’d clapped Michael lightly on the shoulder and said ‘relax, dude, you look like a narc’, which Michael could only assume meant he was cool.

“This is so rigged!” Dustin whined as Madeline leaned heavily on his shoulder, hiccupping between giggles.

“Yeah, how’zat?” Jake slurred with a grin, winding his arm around Michael’s shoulders. It must’ve looked affectionate to anyone else, but Michael frowned when he felt the amount of weight Jake was putting on him. He felt unstable, and Michael didn’t like it at all.

“Michael’s been playing video games all his life and you’re a sports god, you guys have a guaranteed win!”

“I’m pretty sure Wii Sports Resort wouldn’t prepare me for beer pong, and Jake’s not even playing.” Michael smirked, bouncing the moist ping-pong ball up and down on the table.

“You’re not even drunk!” Dustin snapped, though he didn’t seem actually angry. “At least I had the decency to get high first!”

“And that’s your own fault, Kropp-top!” Jake grinned, pointing a couple centimetres left of Dustin’s head and blinking rapidly. “Why the _fuck_ are there two of you?”

 _“Aaand_ that’s enough of the beer pong.” Michael smiled sheepishly, tugging Jake away from the table. Jake whined in protest, swatting Michael’s hands away.

“Geddoff!” He snapped, shoving himself away from him and stumbling into a wall.

“Hey – Jake!” Michael cried in concern, rushing over to support him upright. Jake made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and shoved Michael away again. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t want you’re help!” Jake slurred, swaying on his feet. “You don’t – you don’t even wanna help!”

“What?!” Michael frowned. “Jake, what are you talking about?!”

“Pokemon!” Jake snapped, and Michael had officially lost control of the situation. “I wanna watch Pokemon and be dumb with you and you - you _don’t!_ But you pretend like you do and I don’t – I don’t fuckin’ know anymore!”

Michael blinked awkwardly.

“Uh.” He mumbled. “We can watch Pokemon tomorrow, if you want?”

“S’not what I mean!” Jake huffed, grabbing his head. Michael winced – with the noise and the alcohol, there was no doubt he was getting a migraine or at least a bad headache. “I just – I want to – I don’t-!”

“Jake,” Michael said, trying desperately to be heard over the noise of the party and Jake’s loud protests. “You need to calm down-“

“You don’t _want_ me to calm down!” Jake snapped. “Or – you do, I guess – the point!” He said, pointing at Michael accusingly. “The _point_ is that you don’t care!”

Michael fought the frustrated growl growing in his throat and ran his hand through his hair, his body trembling at the lack of the comforting weight of his headband.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Jake, I-!”

“And I’ll take it from here.” A sultry voice said, sending shivers down Michael’s spine. Michael grit his teeth as Chloe swooped in, looping Jake’s arm over her shoulder and flashing him the same smile a crocodile gave a baby deer before it ripped it into shreds.

“I think I’ll take care of Jake for now.” She smiled, though here eyes flashed _‘murder’_. “Nothing personal – we just understand each other, y’know?”

Michael clenched his fists. “I understand him.”

“Sure you do.” Chloe tilted her head condescendingly, as if Michael were some trained puppy who’d barked for her. She tilted Jake’s chin towards her with her finger, and Michael fought the urge to slap her hand away from him.

“Hey, Jakey!” She smiled. Jake shot her a dopey grin in return.

“Hi, Chloe!”

“You wanna go play Sixes with Aaron and the others?” Chloe cooed, her hand travelling down his side. “I’ll be your partner, if you want.”

Jake frowned, casting glances from Michael to Chloe, like he wasn’t entirely sure whether this was supposed to be happening.

 _It’s not,_ the voice in Michael’s head screamed. _You shouldn’t go with her, you should stay with me and you should tell me what’s wrong so I can help-_

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly, that stupid drunk grin growing across his lips again. “Yeah, let’s play Sixes! I wanna play Sixes.”

“Great!” Chloe smiled brightly, tugging him towards the table. “Bye, Michael!”

Jake’s head jerked upwards. “Michael-?”

Chloe pulled him away before he could finish.

“Wow.” A dry voice came from behind Michael’s shoulder. He frowned, turning to see Rich Goranski leaned against the wall, a Jason mask hung around his neck as he sipped a red solo cup full of the jungle juice from the kitchen (and by jungle juice Michael meant a mixture of Mountain Dew and rum).

“Rich?” He asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. If Rich noticed, he didn’t say anything. “What’re you doing here, I thought you were laying low?”

“Oh, nothin’.” Rich shrugged, taking a swig of his Mountain Rum. “Just wondering why you’re letting Chloe Valentine run off with your man without doing anything about it.”

Michael tensed. “He – He can spend time with her if he wants-“

“Yeah, he doesn’t _want_ , Michael.” Rich said firmly. “He thinks he does, but he doesn’t. He’s _supposed_ to want, so he acts like he does, but he doesn’t, and you should go over there and talk some sense into him.”

Michael grit his teeth, his nails digging into the palm of his hand painfully.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me-“

“He _thinks_ he doesn’t.” Rich corrected. “Big difference.”

“You don’t understand this situation-“

“I knew him two years more than you did.” Rich challenged, staring Michael in the eye. “I know when my friend is acting like a dumbass.”

Michael fought a groan and ran his hand through his hair again, the lack of his headband around his hairline still uncomfortable and strange.

“What do you want, Rich?” He sighed, his hand swinging to his side, defeated. “Because – Because if you just came over here to make me feel like shit, I’m not taking it.”

Rich rose an eyebrow as he sipped his drink.

“I don’t want anything from you, Mell.” He said slowly. “I’m just a guy, trying to figure out what the fuck your deal is.”

Michael felt his stomach drop painfully. Because, honestly? Even if he wanted to give Rich an answer... He wouldn’t be able to.

“And now,” Rich said, spinning on his heel. “I’mma go throw up. Later, tater.”

Michael blinked, watching as Rich stumbled to a plant pot and gagged before deciding that he needed to find Jake.

He darted through the crowded living room, searching desperately for his boyf- his _fake_ boy- oh, Jesus Christ, he didn’t know anymore. All Michael knew was that he needed to find him. Maybe if he could just find him, get him away from the alcohol and the noise and the _Chloe,_ maybe they could talk and figure all this out. Maybe he could understand what Jake meant by Pokemon and Michael not caring and whatever.

“Um – e-excuse me, have you seen Jake?” He asked the teens lingering around Jake’s house. They frowned at him and looked at their friends, and Michael fought the urge to sigh. He knew he was a loser, but people didn’t have to act like him existing was ruining their fun.

“I just – I _really_ need to find Jake.” He pleaded. The group shared another glance.

“Dunno, man.”

“Probably drinking.”

“This is Jake’s party?”

Michael growled and shoved his way past them, darting through the hoards of people.

“E-Excuse me, have – have you seen Jake-“

“I just really need to find him and I-“

“No – _yes_ , this is his party, this is his _house_ , how do you not know this?!”

“I just need to find – I’m sorry, are you dressed as Cat-Woman or a sexy cat because I’m confused and – okay, that isn’t the point –“

“Can someone _please_ just tell me where to find Jake?!”

Finally, a skinny looking Batman (complete with a red solo cup hanging over one of the spikes on his mask) pointed him to the countertop where Jake’s group was supposedly playing Sixes. Michael thanked him quickly before turning and sprinting into the kitchen and-

Oh.

Jake whooped as he rolled the dice, tipping back his drink as Chloe clapped her hands and cheered beside him. He slammed the cup down on the table, a drop of beer dribbling down his chin, and Chloe screamed in delight, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Jake laughed uproariously, grabbing her around the waist and twirling her.

_“We just understand each other, y’know?”_

Michael felt his stomach drop.

Suddenly, everything was too loud. The beat of the music burst throw Michael’s chest, settling in his bones and sending thrums of painful energy through his veins. His brain turned into sludge in his head, bubbling and swelling until it was throbbing against his skull as his nerves all stood on end, static and sensitive and so, _so_ painful-

He needed to get out of here.

“Hey – watch it, man!” Someone yelled drunkenly as Michael shoved his way through the crowd.

“Sorry-“ He tried to say, though his voice cut out after the first syllable and broke into a small crack. He stumbled away, almost tripping on his way up the stairs, and burst into the bathroom, locking it behind him.

He shuddered as he leaned heavily against the door, his breath coming out in sharp pants. He felt his body slipping down the hard wood to the cold floor. Fuck. Fuck, okay. No. He couldn’t be here, he needed to leave, except he _couldn’t_ leave, because if he left then he’d have to see Jake and Chloe being all close and couple-y in the kitchen and Chloe would be able to sneer at his shitty social skills at school and then Jake would be upset with him for leaving-

Jake’s already upset with him.

Michael let out a small, broken sob as he buried his head in between his knees. That opened the floodgates – fat tears streamed down his face as ugly sobs were ripped out of his throat. Michael whimpered pitifully - he’d always been an ugly crier. He pushed down the wails fighting their way out of his throat, stifling his noises to pathetic whimpers and disgusting sobs and hiccups, and rocked his head back against the door. The slight pain brought momentary release – a split-second distraction from the deafening noise of the party, the ache in his stomach, the voices in his head _screaming_ at him, _you messed up, it’s your fault, he hates you and it’s YOUR FAULT-_

He cried out like an animal in pain, knocking his head against the door once, twice, three times. He sighed raggedly, the pattern of three somewhat soothing. The _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of his head on the wood managed to take up space in his brain, pushing away the ugly voices berating and hating him in his mind until-

_Knock, knock, knock._

No more rhythmic thumps. Just loud, angry knocking.

“Excuse me!” Someone snapped from outside the door. Michael yelped, slapping his hand over his mouth. The voice sounded familiar, but his brain was far too clouded to make sense of it. “Some of us have to pee!”

“Um!” Michael whimpered. “I – I’m having my period!”

The aggressive knocking stilled. Michael tensed his shoulders, waiting for their response.

“Take your time, honey.” The voice said gently.

“Thank you.” Michael mumbled, but there was no response. All over again, he crumbled, burying his face in his hands. He was alone, except – except he _wanted_ to be alone, he didn’t want to be at this party, he didn’t want to be around these people, but – then why did he feel so lonely?

Deep down, he knew. He knew what he wanted – a secure arm around his shoulders, a soft, solid body to cuddle into, even a hand in his back pocket...

Michael gasped as someone pounded on the door again.

“I-I, um-!” He whimpered piteously. “I just – um-“

“Michael?!”

_Shit._

“Jake?” He whispered, though he knew Jake wouldn’t be able to hear it through the door.

“Michael, are you in there?!”

He sounded desperate.

“Michael – c’mon, open the door, I gotta talk to you!”

Like he really did want to talk.

“I – Look, I’m sorry for what I said, just-“ He heard a small grumble from outside. Michael could make out the shadows of feet pacing in arrhythmic steps. “Michael – if you’re in there, _please_ just open the door.”

Michael’s hands gripped his hair tightly, his scalp screaming in protest.

 _“Please_ , Michael.”

He shot to his feet and yanked the door open, not allowing himself to have a second thought about it.

Jake stumbled forward, almost knocking into him. He must’ve been leaning against the door.

“Um.” He said awkwardly, his hand hovering just above Michael’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Michael said quietly. Jake’s eyes flickered with concern, his hand reaching out to trace Michael’s cheek. Michael hoped his flinch wasn’t too obvious. Judging by the close to heartbroken look in Jake’s eyes, he hadn’t done a great job.

“You’re crying.” He said, those big brown eyes of his flooded with worry.

“I was.” Michael mumbled, forcing himself to look at his feet. “Was crying. Past tense.”

“You’re not breathing right.” Jake realized, his eyes growing wide. “Are you okay? You weren’t – you weren’t, like-“ His voice stuttered and faded on his tongue. “Panic attack?”

His voice cracked on the final syllable. Like it was painful to say it. Michael nodded shamefully, forcing himself to keep his face neutral.

Jake reached out, his hand hovering over Michael’s arm as if asking for permission. When Michael didn’t flinch away, he grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down the hall, shoving him through a door on the left.

“Wait here.” He said gently, squeezing Michael’s shoulder. “I will be right back, okay?”

Michael nodded slowly, a warmth spanning his chest at Jake’s firm, reassuring tone.

He padded to the door after Jake all but sprinted out into the hall. He’d only just poked his head out of the door before he heard Jake yell from downstairs, _“Everybody out!”_

The party-goers groaned and yelled in protest, but Jake must’ve kept shouting at them or herded them out or _something_ , because Michael heard a march of pissed off drunk teens stumbling out of Jake’s house.

It took a while for Jake to come back up – he was probably clearing out the lingering teens or waking up the ones who were passed out over couches and tables. Michael sat himself down on Jake’s bed, sighing as the plush mattress dipped beneath his weight. Michael had expected Jake’s bedroom to be like that of a regular teenage boys – messy, clothes everywhere, posters on the walls and porn under the bed – but no, it seemed that Jake actually had a pretty neat space. His bed was made, his dresser and desk organized – there were even shelves full of awards Jake had won from all his activities and clubs. Michael snorted quietly when he saw them. All first place trophies, all blue ribbons – it was a stark contrast to Michael’s shelves of paintings and fishhook-sculptures. It was almost funny, how different they were.

Michael sighed, curling his hands in his CREEPS shirt. How could he have never thought this would happen?

“Hey.” Jake said quietly as he padded into the room. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes kept darting to the walls or the floor – he looked so weirdly _small_ , even inside his own room.

“Hi.” Michael mumbled. “I’m sorry you had to stop your party.”

“No.” Jake said firmly, sitting next to him on the bed. “Not allowed. You’re not allowed to be sorry.”

Michael snorted softly, raising an eyebrow. “Are you still drunk?”

“Very.” Jake nodded before wincing and grabbing his forehead. “Shit.”

“I think you should lay down.” Michael said gently. “I’ll just – go home, i-if you want-“

“No.” Jake grabbed his shoulder quickly, and Michael almost melted at the pleading look in his eyes. “Don’t go. Not yet, not before I can say I’m sorry.”

Michael nodded, slowly lowering himself back onto the bed. Jake sighed through his nose, looking at the floor.

“M’sorry for yelling at you.” He mumbled, pulling off his giant afro wig and throwing it to the corner of his room. “I shouldn’t’ve done that. Wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Michael nodded. “So why’d you do it?”

Jake tensed. “I just – I-I was drunk – I _am_ drunk, and-“

“You shouldn’t.” Michael said quietly. “Get drunk, I mean. Not like that.”

Jake scoffed. “Says the stoner.”

“I get high in amounts that I can handle to take the pressure off when I’m either by myself, with you, or Jeremy.” Michael said firmly. “It’s a bad habit and it’s not the best coping mechanism, yeah, but it’s not an addiction. You can’t get addicted to weed. Y’know what you can get addicted to? Drinking.”

Jake made a face. “Michael-“

“I know it’s not my place to say.” Michael said gently, placing his hand on Jake’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “But – Jake, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you get drunk and I never want to see it again. You really scared me, and – it’s not healthy, Jake.”

Jake sighed, leaning into Michael’s touch until his head was slumped on his shoulder.

“I know.” He mumbled into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you, or – or scare you so bad.”

“I wasn’t scared because of what you said, Jake.” Michael sighed. “I mean, yeah, it wasn’t great, but – I was scared because you weren’t acting like yourself. You were mean, and loud, and just an all around bad guy and that’s not – that’s _not_ who you are.”

Jake snorted bitterly. “Yeah? Doesn’t feel like it, most of the time.”

“Jake-“

“You hated me.” Jake said quietly. “For so long, you hated me.”

“I know.” Michael said slowly. “And I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t know you at all, I just made a snap judgement because you were popular and I was wrong. I can admit that. You’re a good person, Jake.”

“Whatever you say.” Jake sighed, nuzzling into his neck. “I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Jake muttered. “I made you have a panic attack.”

“It wasn’t just you.” Michael said gently. “The party was so loud, and I was scared and alone-“

“Which is all my fault anyways!”

“I made the decision to come.” Michael said firmly. “And I’m glad I did. Because we’re here, and we’re talking, and that’s good.”

Jake sighed, pulling his head off of Michael’s shoulder. Michael refused to admit how much he missed the solid warmth.

“I’ll... Try.” He said slowly. “Not to drink so much. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect-“

“As long as you try.” Michael smiled. “That’s all I could ask from you.”

Jake smiled back as best he could, and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Two boys squashed on Jake’s bed, their thighs and shoulders pressed against each other despite the space of the queen-sized bed, just sitting and existing together. That was all Michael wanted.

“Hey, Michael?” Jake asked quietly, staring at his hands. “I, um. Y-You don’t have to, but... Would you, uh – would you mind sleeping over tonight?”

Michael blinked, blindsided by the sudden offer. If he were Jake, he wouldn’t want anyone to stay and watch him in his saddened state. Jake tensed at his silence, quickly backtracking.

“I-I mean, you don’t have to.” He said quickly. “It’s just – I dunno, I just thought-“

“I’ll call my moms.” Michael smiled, leaning his forehead against Jake’s temple in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Be right back.”

A quick phone call and _very_ watered down explanation later (he conveniently left out the drinking games, panic attacks, and Jake’s drunken state), he wandered back into Jake’s room.

“I – whoa, hey!” He quickly rushed to Jake’s side as he tried to wrangle himself out of his costume. “Dude! What’re you doing?!”

“My arm’s stuck.” Jake mumbled pitifully, his voice muffled through the purple fabric. Michael laughed softly, placing his hands gently on the lump of fabric where Jake’s head was.

“Stay still.” He said gently. “I’ll help.”

It took some manoeuvring and a few suspicious tearing noises (Michael would be certain to stitch those up later), but eventually they managed to pull the costume over Jake’s head and _hello shirtless Jake Dillinger_.

“Okay!” Michael squeaked, quickly turning around. “Just, um! Get some pyjamas on or something.”

After some awkward stumbling and a few bumps against the furniture (Michael kind of wanted to help, but he was far too unstable to see Jake shirtless right now), Jake finally got on his sleep clothes and told Michael he was decent.

“Cool.” Michael nodded, trying not to focus too hard on how adorably sleepy Jake looked in just an oversized shirt and some boxers. “I’m gonna take the couch, yeah?”

“Stay.” Jake said quickly, grabbing Michael’s shirt in an almost wanton manner. “Please stay?”

His eyes were foggy and clouded with drink and lack of sleep, but they were so wide and pleading that Michael couldn’t bear to say no.

“I...” He said quietly. “I-I don’t have any sleep clothes...”

“Borrow some of mine.” Jake said. “Please stay?”

Michael sighed, his lips pulling up into a small smile.

“Of course, Jake.”

Jake grinned, grabbing him some clothes and letting Michael awkwardly duck into the bathroom to get changed. Michael winced – he’d only had one experience in this bathroom so far, and he already never wanted to go in it again. He sighed as he stripped to his boxers and pulled Jake’s Middleborough Highschool shirt over his head. He was tempted to scoff at Jake’s choice in clothing – their own highschool tee? Seriously? People actually bought those things? – but he was too distracted by how warm and soft it was, how it smelled of spice and home and a little bit of pizza.

It smelled like Jake.

Michael jumped at that thought, quickly sprinting out of the bathroom and back to Jake’s bedroom.

Jake’s eyes widened when he laid eyes on Michael, draped in his Middleborough shirt. It was embarrassingly big on him – Jake was already a couple inches taller, but he also had actual muscle in his shoulders and arms, while Michael was mostly squish, so the shirt draped down over the waist of his boxers and slipped over his shoulder. Michael smiled awkwardly, oddly embarrassed at the thought of wearing Jake’s clothes.

Jake moved forward until he was standing in front of him. He held Michael gently by the shoulders, and for a split second Michael actually thought he was going to-

Jake pulled him into a hug.

“Sorry for being mean.” He said quietly against the shell of Michael’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “I won’t be mean to you again. Promise.”

Michael chuckled softly, winding his arms around Jake’s waist.

“Me neither, Jakey.” He smiled against his shoulder. “Promise.”

“C’mon.” Jake grinned sleepily. “Bed.”

Jake pulled Michael under his covers, moving and adjusting their position until Michael was flush against his chest, his nose brushing Jake’s neck and their legs pressed against each other. Jake sighed contently, holding Michael tightly in his arms as he nosed at his loose hair.

“I’m sorry for taking your headband.” He mumbled guiltily, pulling away from Michael’s hair like he didn’t deserve to touch it. Michael chuckled quietly, pressing a hand to the back of Jake’s neck and pulling him back in.

“It’s alright, stupid.” He smiled as he tucked himself against Jake’s chest. “I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh.” Jake said quietly. He sighed against Michael’s hair. “Shit.”

Michael rose an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Nothing.” Jake smiled, though it was tight and strained. Michael decided to blame it on his lack of sleep. “Just go to sleep, Mike. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded, too tired to ask anymore questions. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“G’night, Michael.”

Michael sighed, his lips barely even centimetres away from Jake’s collarbone. He held back the part of him that wanted to cross those extra centimetres, to press his lips to Jake’s collarbone and listen to his soft intake of breath. He swallowed those thoughts down, down, _down_ , forcing them into the little black box he refused to open.

They fit inside perfectly, right next to the part of Michael that had wanted Jake to kiss him instead of hug him.

“Go to sleep.” Jake mumbled, his cheek pressed against Michael’s hair. “I can hear you thinking.”

Michael tensed. “I, um-“

 _“Shh_ , Mike.” Jake whispered. “Just sleep, yeah? Just stay here and sleep.”

Michael nodded against Jake’s chest, letting his eyes fall shut.

He’d stay. He’d stay and sleep and just exist with Jake in the security of his bedroom, and he certainly wouldn’t think about those terrible thoughts in the back of his mind that would only lead to tears and hurt and misery.

He wondered how long he’d be able to stay before everything crashed and burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory michael in the bathroom moment, what can i say  
> I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED THIS CHAPTER TO MY NEWSIES SPAVID FIC INSTEAD OF THIS FIC SO I HAD TO DELETE THAT REAL QUICK AND ADD THE CHAPTER HERE OOPS  
> i'm so fucking tired it's so late


	10. As You Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I ask you something?”
> 
> “Shoot.”
> 
> “Why do you want to get back together with Chloe so bad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if this is shit it's already been way too long without an update so i'm just not even proofreading this stuff at this point i just write it and then boom here we go

Michael had never thought he’d be able to share a bed with a person. Yeah, he and Jeremy had laid down and snuggled while watching movies together (after a lot of ‘no homo’s on Jeremy’s part) and he, Tay and Christine were all used to falling asleep on each other – it was their god given right as siblings to have no boundaries and be general inconveniences to each other, after all. But he’d never once seen himself as being able to share a bed with someone romantically. Michael tended to move around a lot in bed trying to get comfortable, so if he had to share with someone, he just knew he’d annoy them. Not to mention the questioning of, _should we be cuddling? Do I want to cuddle? If I don’t cuddle with them will they be upset? If they don’t want to cuddle, how am I supposed to know?_ It was all just a big mess that Michael would rather do without.

With Jake, however, that all just fell away. Michael hadn’t cared about moving around much – Jake had been right there to fold around him perfectly no matter what position he shifted into, and he didn’t complain once. And he hadn’t had to overthink about closeness, or cuddling, or whether Jake could feel his breath and if that was annoying or not – it all just slotted into place. There was no need to overthink it.

Michael’s mouth quirked into a smile when he saw Jake with his face half-buried in his pillow, a small puddle of drool growing at the corner of his mouth. He looked calmer when he was asleep – when he was awake, he was all exaggerated expressions and hand gestures. Now, he was still. Michael smiled at the thought. He deserved some rest after last night.

Last night. The very thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. For so long now, he’d thought Jake was entirely genuine – a happy guy who just _was_ happy, no façade or ulterior motives about it. But after last night... It was evident he’d only scratched the surface. Maybe Jake was a nice guy – no, scratch that. Michael _knew_ Jake was a nice guy. His kindness wasn’t fake, it was 100% genuine, all Jake. But... That didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t still wearing a mask. Maybe he just wore it differently to the way the other popular kids did.

Michael sighed, slowly pulling himself away from Jake’s grip. As much as he wanted to settle down, place his head back over Jake’s chest were it had been and go back to sleep, he knew that the aftermath of the party was just waiting downstairs, and Jake was in no state of mind to clean it up.

He padded down the stairs in his borrowed clothes and grimaced at the mess in the living room. God, teenagers were _animals_. His poor middle school self belting ‘Teenagers’ by My Chemical Romance really had no idea how true that song was.

He stretched his arms over his head, grabbing some trash bags from a cabinet in the kitchen, and began his work. Marie Kondo, don’t fail him now...

Cleaning out the living room took a lot of work and a lot more upper body strength than Michael possessed, but, somehow, he managed to drag the straining trash bags to the garage and clear out the living room in record time, and even managed to get most of the kitchen cleared before nine AM. He was just scrubbing down the island when he heard clumsy footsteps stumble into the room.

“Hey, Jake.” He smiled as brightly as he could, shoving a stack of dirty paper plates into the bin marked ‘recycling’. “Eco friendly kitchen you got here, I definitely approve.”

Jake blinked, his eyes travelling over the clean tiles and scrubbed counters. He looked over his shoulder at the living room devoid of trash, turned back and raked a hand through his hair.

“What the _fuck?”_

“You’re welcome.” Michael grinned, satisfied with Jake’s shock. “I guess it was a good a thing I came over, huh? Here, I’ll get you some water and some aspirin before I go clean up the porch-”

“No – Michael!” Jake said firmly, grabbing Michael’s wrist as he went to pour the water. “I...” He sighed, looking at Michael like... Like Michael didn’t even _know_ what. “What are you doing?”

“Uhh...” Michael waggled the sponge in his free hand. “Cleaning?”

“But-“ Jake blinked rapidly, like the light on a computer when the system was buffering. “You – you were supposed to leave by now-“

“Oh!” Michael fought the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Oh, uh – I’m sorry, I-I can leave if you want me to-“

“No!” Jake said quickly before wincing and grabbing his head. _“Fuck_ , should not have done that...”

“I gotcha.” Michael smiled as he poured him the water. “Where do you keep your aspirin?”

Jake looked ready to protest, but his headache must’ve been killing him, because he just sighed and gestured to the cabinet over the sink.

Michael smiled as reassuringly as he could as he handed Jake the water. He wasn’t entirely sure why Jake was so... _Tense_ , but hopefully it was just a hangover thing that would wash away with some water and a nice shower. Their fingers brushed as Michael handed him the glass, the touch sending little firecrackers up his nerves, and before he knew it the glass had slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor.

 _“Shit!”_ Jake hissed, dropping to his knees. “I’m – I’m so sorry, I can-“

“Whoa, hey!” Michael said quickly, batting Jake’s hands away from the glass. “What’re you trying to do, get stitches?!”

Jake blinked, his eyes filled with panic and confusion.

“But – But I have to-“

“Dude.” Michael said gently, placing his hands on Jake’s shoulders. “You’re hungover and tired. You basically had a wholeass mental break last night. You are not in any state to be doing... Literally _anything_ right now.”

Jake pursed his lips and looked at the mess of glass and water on the floor. He sighed through his nose, looking utterly defeated. Michael fought a wince. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up what’d happened last night.

“Yeah.” Jake said quietly. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Michael smiled gently, helping Jake to his feet. “It was an accident. It happens.”

Jake frowned, looking Michael up and down carefully.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” He asked, and Michael felt the genuine curiosity in his voice like a punch in the gut. “I mean...” Jake snorted quietly, like he was trying to laugh but couldn’t quite force it all the way out. “If it were Chloe, she would’ve screamed at me.”

Michael’s lips curdled into a frown. He’d never paid much attention to Jake and Chloe’s relationship, but when he really considered it – how Chloe had been so quick to pull Jake away and dictate his actions, how she felt entitled to Jake even after they’d broken up, the way she’d immediately taken advantage of his drunken state and Jake’s casual remarks about how cruel she could be – maybe Michael was a little biased towards hating her, yes, with how she’d treated him and Jenna over the years, but... It still didn’t sit right with him.

“Can I ask you something?” Michael asked carefully as he grabbed the dustpan and brush he’d managed to excavate from one of the kitchen cabinets.

“Shoot.”

Michael sighed, sweeping up the shards of glass and dumping them into the trash.

“Why do you want to get back together with Chloe so bad?”

Jake paused, and for a second Michael was certain he was going to get screamed at or punched or – _something_. He quickly shook himself out of it – Jake would never do those things. Maybe curse him out a little and demand Michael leave immediately, but... He doubted Jake would actually abuse him, physically or verbally.

Jake sighed, taking a seat on one of the bar stools placed near the kitchen island. He looked visibly uncomfortable, but Michael couldn’t tell whether that was his fault or the stool’s. They were that kind – the stiff yet strangely slippery modern-looking ones that you could never sit properly on, as if they’d been designed more for the aesthetic than actual comfort.

“You want me to be honest?” Jake asked quietly, his eyes unreadable as they bore into the counter-top, looking almost bored.

“Of course.” Michael replied, leaning against the opposite side of the island. Jake sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. He looked so _tired_.

“I genuinely don’t know.” Jake muttered. “It’s – It’s not that Chloe’s a bad person or anything-“

Michael rose an eyebrow.

“She’s not!” Jake insisted, looking almost offended that Michael had even implied it. “I – I know she acts that way most of the time, but she does care. She just... She just can’t show it all the time.”

Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, why’s that?”

Jake paused, nibbling his bottom lip for a moment as he searched for the right words.

“I think...” He said after a small moment of silence. “I think she’s scared.”

Michael almost recoiled.

“Chloe’s not scared of anything.”

“Everyone’s scared of something, Mike, I figured you of all people’d know that.” Jake muttered. Michael made a small face, remembering the crushing feeling of fear and abandonment as he’d cried in the bathroom only the night before. He knew about fear. It was a normal human emotion. That didn’t mean he liked to feel it.

“She needs to feel appreciated.” Jake continued. If he noticed Michael’s discomfort, he didn’t mention it. “And, like – that’s a natural thing. Obviously. But Chloe... It’s like she can’t exist without a boyfriend, y’know? She needs to have status, I don’t – I don’t know why. Maybe she feels like people won’t care about what she has to say if she doesn’t? Which is fair enough, but... It means she hides what she feels all the time. Just so people won’t look down on her, or – or think she’s weak.”

Michael fought the urge to gag – not because of Chloe’s reasoning, that was actually kind of depressing – but the thought of him sharing a personality flaw with Chloe made him feel physically ill.

“But it makes her really closed off, too.” Jake said quietly. “And – I don’t wanna blame her for anything, especially if she’s going through stuff, but... It feels like she takes it out on me? Like – if I do stuff wrong, she gets mad. If I do stuff right, she _seems_ happy, but then she breaks up with me and I just – I don’t know! I mean, maybe she’s stressed with the whole status thing, and I don’t blame her for that, but...” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wish she’d just talk to me about it.”

“Hey.” Michael said gently, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Look – I can see where you’re coming from with this, but... All the stuff Chloe deals with – having to maintain status and get people to respect her and all that – it sucks, yeah, but it doesn’t automatically justify her taking it out on you. It _explains_ it, and that’s okay, but it doesn’t justify it. You breaking a cup or doing any kind of minor inconvenience or whatever isn’t a reason for her to take out her baggage on you.”

“I know that.” Jake muttered, his voice beginning to sound tight and frustrated. “And it’s not – it’s not like I’m some housewife getting beaten up or anything. She just yells sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“Jake.” Michael said firmly, taking Jake’s face in his hands. “Listen to me. If she is taking out her frustrations on you to the point where you’re scared to make any kind of mistake around her, it’s a big deal.”

“Well when you say it like _that_ , it sounds bad!” Jake huffed.

“Then how would you say it?” Michael said in a tone that wasn’t cold or angry, but didn’t leave much room for argument. “Tell me exactly where I went wrong with that analogy.”

“W-Well!” Jake snapped indignantly. “Well – I just – i-it’s not like...” He furrowed his brow, searching for the right words. “She’s a _girl_ , Mike! Girls don’t abuse people, girls _get_ abused. I’m not gonna, like – undermine that or anything!”

“You admitting that Chloe treats you badly doesn’t undermine anything.” Michael said firmly. “Do you know how many cases there are like this? Men being abused by their girlfriends or their wives? Either it’s emotional manipulation, or being controlled, or physical abuse-“

“And all of that is so much worse than what happens with Chloe!” Jake snapped. “That’s – that’s _real_ abuse, this is just yelling!”

“And if it’s affecting you this badly, then it still makes it serious.” Michael murmured, trying his best to keep Jake calm. “Just because some people have it worse, doesn’t mean your problems don’t matter. It’s not some kind of pain game to see who deserves attention the most. I need you to understand that.”

Jake sighed, tilting his head downwards. Maybe it was the lighting of the kitchen, but his eyes seemed to glitter with unshed tears. Michael really hoped it was just the lighting. He’d dealt with a lot in the past twenty four hours, but he was pretty sure seeing Jake cry would be the finishing blow.

“Okay.” Jake mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “Can we just – stop talking about this now?”

“Of course.” Michael nodded. “As long as you consider what I said.”

Jake huffed through his nose, rolling his eyes in what seemed like a fond manner at Michael’s stubbornness.

“Fine.” He said finally. “I’ll consider it.”

“Perfect.” Michael grinned. “Now go! Go to bed, you need to rest!”

Jake chuckled as Michael bullied him off of his stool and started to forcibly shove him to the stairs.

“Oh no!” He cried dramatically, leaning backwards on top of Michael’s shorter body. “Gravity’s increasing on my body!”

“Your Lilo and Stitch references won’t save you, Dillinger!” Michael snapped with no real bite. “You think you’re tough? I have a little brother and an incredibly short older sister! I _own_ this move!”

“I can’t hear you!” Jake sang, letting his entire body flop over Michael’s shoulders.

“Goddammit!” Michael yelled indignantly as he attempted to heave Jake’s body upwards. “Why are you so _heavy?!”_

“Hey, easy on the body shaming there, Mell!” Jake laughed. Michael rolled his eyes and stepped to the side from underneath Jake’s body, grinning as he screeched and collapsed onto the floor.

“Fiend!” Jake cried from where he was sprawled on the floor. “How could you?!”

“Toldja, Dillinger.” Michael smirked, leaning down to poke his nose. “I _own_ that move.”

“I hate you.” Jake pouted, folding his arms dramatically. “You’re a mean fake boyfriend. I should’ve asked Heere or Rich instead.”

And Michael felt those words like a punch to the gut. He knew it was a joke – of course Jake didn’t _actually_ mean it, of course... But it still reminded him of just how fake this all was. He could have as much fun with Jake as he wanted, but who was to say he couldn’t have had just as much fun with anyone else? He could’ve asked anyone to do this with him, Michael was just the poor sap who pulled the short straw. He wasn’t special. He wasn’t important. In an alternate universe, this exact same situation could be playing out with literally _anyone_. Michael was just some loser - what had ever made him think he was different to anyone else?

“Uh.” He nodded awkwardly. “Yeah.” He stepped over Jake’s body and wandered back to the kitchen. “I’ll, um. Finish up in here, then.”

“Michael?”

He wasn’t sure what made him pause – maybe it was how small Jake sounded, or the softness in his voice. Maybe it was just Jake in general. Maybe he shouldn’t think about that too hard.

“Yeah?” He replied, turning on his heel. Jake got to his feet and smiled at him – not his million dollar movie star smile, a proper smile. A little upwards turn of his lips, small and special and so genuine it hurt.

“Thanks.”

“Um.” Michael mumbled. Goddammit goddammit why did Jake have to look like that and smile like that and _fuck_ why was Michael so gay?! “Yeah. No problem.” He managed to get out, desperately fighting the blush on his cheeks. “Now go upstairs!”

Jake laughed, raising his hands in defeat.

“Fine, fine!”

Michael waited until he heard Jake’s door close to start breathing again.

Okay. Okay. This was all fine. He wasn’t going to think about whatever the hell _that_ was, no sir, he had better things to do. He had a porch to clean and teenager puke to mop up. _That_ was what he’d think about.

Jesus Christ, he was fucked.

oOo

“You really didn’t have to drive me.” Michael said as Jake pulled his PT Cruiser into the drive.

“Ah, it’s no problem.” Jake grinned – the million dollar grin this time, not the genuine smile he’d granted him earlier. “Least I could do after you cleaned my whole house. Which you still didn’t have to do, by the way.”

“Too bad, did it anyway.” Michael smirked, trying to ignore the small pang of hurt that Jake was still trying to hide from him. After everything that’d happened the other night, he’d expected Jake to take off his popular mask around him a little more, but, evidently, no such luck. “I mean, my moms flip their shit when I leave chip packets in the basement, imagine how crazy your parents would’ve gotten if they’d seen that mess!”

Michael’s laughter trailed off when he noticed how still Jake was beside him. Weird. Of all people, he’d expected Jake to enjoy parent humour the most. That’s what popular kids laughed about, right?

Michael blinked as a metaphorical lightbulb sparked over his head.

_Wait._

“Hey,” He frowned. “Where are your parents?”

Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Hm?” He mumbled, a small strangled noise in the back of his throat. Michael frowned at his silence.

“I mean, I’ve never seen them around your house.” Michael shrugged as his brain shifted into galaxy mode. “And you have a lot of parties... I mean, my parents wouldn’t be okay with that... I don’t think most parents would be okay with that...”

Jake shifted awkwardly on his seat, drumming his fingers over the wheel.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “Guess they wouldn’t.”

Michael frowned at Jake’s stony silence and tensed shoulders. His hands were clenched around the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn almost white in their iron grip.

“Jake?” Michael asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Jake swallowed heavily.

“I want...” He mumbled. “I _want_ to tell you...”

“Tell me what?” Michael frowned. Jake closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath through his nose. “Jake.” Michael pressed. “Tell me _what?”_

Jake sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“I haven’t talked to my parents in three years.”

Michael jolted, his neck almost cracking with the speed at which he snapped it to look at Jake. He was still and silent, his face blank like a marble statue.

“Oh.” He nodded, looking at his hands folded on his lap. “Okay.”

Jake rose an eyebrow.

“You don’t wanna know why?”

“I do.” Michael said automatically before internally slapping himself in the face for being a _moron._ “I-It’s just... Well, it’s your thing to tell, is all.”

Jake frowned at him for a moment before looking away.

“It’s hard to say.” He finally uttered after a good few minutes of silence. “Mostly ‘cause... I don’t even know how I feel about it. I want to be mad at them, a little – and I’m sad they didn’t take me with them – but I’m also happy I’m _not_ with them – but at the same time...”

“Hey.” Michael said gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts. Say whatever you wanna say, as much as you can, and stop whenever you want. I won’t push.”

Jake fixed him with one of those especially confusing looks, so full of swirling emotions that Michael could barely tell what Jake was feeling. Michael bit his lip as Jake furrowed his brow and stared at his hands – he knew that look. The ‘I want to talk but I don’t know how’ look. The ‘I know the feeling but I don’t know the words to go with it’ look. The ‘why can’t you just help me and say what I’m feeling for me because I sure as fuck don’t understand it’ look.

“Look.” He said firmly, his voice forcing Jake to make eye contact once again. “It’s okay if you don’t know what you’re feeling. Honestly, I don’t think anyone does half the time. Just know that whatever you’re feeling – whether you get it or not – you can let it out. Any way you want. I’ll be here.”

Jake swallowed heavily, his Adams apple bobbing dangerously in his throat. He sighed through his nose and slowly, carefully, took his right hand off the steering wheel and laid it palm-up on the console. Michael felt his chest ache. He placed his hand on top of Jake’s and squeezed gently, shooting him a reassuring smile.

“They laundered money.” Jake said quietly. Michael forced his expression to stay neutral. Jake gnawed on his lower lip, glancing at Michael from the corner of his eye before looking back out of the windshield. “Like, a lot of it. Got caught, obviously. And then, they, um... They left.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael said gently. “That must’ve been hard for you.”

Jake almost flinched – one of those little half-flinches, like he was scared of showing he was scared. Michael hated those half-flinches.

“C’mon.” Jake snorted humorlessly. “You make it sound like some Greek tragedy or whatever, I mean... What do I have to feel bad about? I have a huge house to myself, no one bugs me to do homework or do chores, my folks send me money every so often so I can buy food and pay bills and stuff-“

“But that’s not your job.” Michael interrupted, a small stab of anger flaring up in his chest. “You’re the kid. They’re the adults. The kid runs away from home, the parents pay the bills. That’s how it works.”

Jake paused for a moment, a flicker of confusion showing on his face. He shook his head slightly.

“No.” He said quietly, though it didn’t sound like he believed it. “I-I mean – I have everything I could ever want, y’know? This is every kids dream.”

“Yeah, in movies.” Michael frowned. “But the kid always realizes he wants his parents back in the end. Didn’t you ever watch Home Alone?”

“I think it’s safe to assume I didn’t watch many ‘family fun’ movies, Michael.” Jake muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Michael said firmly. “You’re allowed to miss your parents. You’re allowed to want them back, or be mad at them for leaving, or whatever-“

“Like you would fucking know.” Jake snapped, his voice cold and brittle. “You actually have a family. You actually have parents who want to be around you. You don’t know shit about what it’s like for me.”

Michael recoiled at Jake’s harshness, but quickly calmed himself down. Jake was scared. He was deflecting. He didn’t know how to deal with these emotions so he was taking it out on Michael. This was not his fault.

“You’re stressed.” Michael said slowly. “That’s okay. I know you didn’t mean what you said and I forgive you. But I need you to understand that I’m just trying to help. And if you don’t want me to, then just say so and I’ll stop. But you’re my friend, Jake. I really am trying to help you.”

Jake looked at him for a moment. He looked caught off guard – scared, almost. He swallowed, opened his mouth, closed it and opened it once more before bursting into tears.

“Oh, shit-!” Michael yelped, hovering his hands awkwardly over Jake’s shoulders. “Um – a-are you – should I-?”

Jake nodded helplessly. Michael made a small helpless noise in the back of his throat and pulled him into a strong-armed hug.

He wasn’t sure how long they were like that, huddled together over the console of Michael’s shitty PT Cruiser, Jake sobbing into Michael’s reeking beer-stained Halloween clothes and Michael stroking his hand from Jake’s hair down his spine, whispering comforts and encouragements until his broken sobs subsided.

“Jesus...” Jake muttered, pulling back to wipe his eyes. It was almost unnatural, seeing Jake Dillinger cry. Like it was something Michael wasn’t supposed to be seeing. “Okay. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Michael said gently.

“I know. Sorry.” Jake mumbled, his eyes widening at his slip. “I mean – um-“

“Do you want to come inside?” Michael interrupted. Jake jerked his head up to gape at him.

“What?”

“My moms won’t mind.” Michael said quickly, almost pleadingly. “And I – I really don’t want to think of you at home alone while you’re feeling this bad.”

Jake looked at him carefully, almost like he was expecting Michael to yell _“sike!”_ and laugh in his face. He opened his mouth, closed it again and wet his lips.

“I don’t...” He said slowly, his voice dry and crackly in his throat. He sniffled quietly, looking up at Michael with wide, tearful eyes. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“There’s a backdoor that goes into the basement.” Michael offered. “I use it when I want to sneak out without anyone knowing.”

“What if your moms find me down there?” Jake asked, and his voice was so small and frightened that Michael just wanted to cling to him and not let go.

“I’ll have to tell them you’re here.” Michael said gently. “But I won’t tell them why. I’ll just say you need to be alone and ask them not to go in my room.”

Jake frowned, his eyes flicking back and forth as he weighed the pros and cons.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Sneaking Jake out of the car and into the basement felt kind of like a really low budget spy movie. It was kind of funny, ducking behind the bushes and under the windows of the house so they could tiptoe down to the basement. At some point, Michael had started humming the Mission Impossible theme, and Jake had actually laughed before swatting him upside the head and telling him to focus. Michael liked Jake’s laugh. His real laugh. Not the laugh he made when he was drunk or when his friends made gross jokes. His proper laugh.

“Okay.” Michael smiled as he hopped down the stairs. “My moms say you can stay, and I had to pull some strings but they’re letting us close the door. And don’t worry,” He said once he noticed Jake’s worried frown. “I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Thanks.” Jake smiled gratefully.

“Ah, no problem.” Michael shrugged, setting up his laptop. “You wanna pick the movie?”

“I thought it was your turn?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t technically a movie night, it’s a ‘comfort your sad friend’ night, and since you’re the aforementioned sad friend, you get to pick.”

Jake snorted quietly, leaning into Michael’s side as they settled against the pillows on his bed.

“I like it when you talk all smart.”

Michael tried to ignore the way his spine tingled at Jake’s words.

“So, um!” Michael said quickly, logging onto Netflix. “What was that one film you were telling me about? The Princess Bride?”

“Michael?”

“I mean it sounds kinda sappy but I’m willing to give it a try-“

“Michael.”

“And Christine says its funny so I might as well, right?” Michael chuckled. “Okay, here it is. Let’s watch.”

Jake sighed, leaning back against the pillows as the movie opened on the little boy and his grandpa.

“I just wanted to say,” he said quietly as the opening narration began to play. “That I’m sorry for saying you didn’t understand how it felt.”

Michael frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Michael.” Jake said firmly, his tone forcing Michael to meet his eyes. “I know about your dad.”

It’s strange how just a five word sentence can make Michael feel as if all his insides had been forcibly ripped out of his body.

“I mean, I know it’s not much of a surprise.” Jake shrugged. “We all knew.”

That was true. He shouldn’t have even been shocked about it. Everyone knew. Everyone had heard about how dear old Brian Mell had upped and left his wife and son. Everyone had heard lovely Mr Mell, the polite and charming man who hosted the best barbecues and told the best stories, screaming at his wife about how he wouldn’t be raising a fucking fairy. And of course, everyone whispered about poor little Michael. Michael with no dad, Michael who was gay, Michael Michael _Michael._ That was all they knew. Just his name and a few little anecdotes they heard through the gossip train. That was Michael Mell’s legacy. A sad little gay boy whose dad abandoned him.

“I should've talked to you." Jake said quietly. "I wanted to. Really bad. Everyone was talking and those guys were all ragging on you and it wasn’t fair. I knew how it felt, too. Better than anyone, really.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I remember, I wanted to talk to you _so_ bad. I thought you were just... The coolest guy ever.”

There was something Michael hadn’t expected.

“Cool?” He frowned. “You thought I was _cool?”_

“Well, yeah.” Jake smiled, like it was obvious. “I mean, you just walked straight into school like nothing had happened. You didn’t rise up to anything, you didn’t let anyone treat you any different – when people tried to make fun of you, you just turned it around on them. Oh God, remember when Graham tried to start on you?”

“Shit, yeah.” Michael chuckled, remembering his tiny middle school self asking with a perfect deadpan why, exactly, Graham wanted to know whether he was a top or bottom. “Man, I was badass.”

“Totally badass.” Jake smiled, and maybe Michael was going insane, but he looked almost in awe.

“You said you wanted to talk to me.” Michael asked quietly. “Why didn’t you?”

Jake sighed, rolling onto his back to stare at the glow stars on Michael’s ceiling.

“Remember how you asked me why I wanted to get back with Chloe?”

Michael nodded.

“It just...” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “It feels like there’s all this stuff I just have to do, y’know? Like – I _have_ to play sports and I _have_ to be dating Chloe and I _have_ to do all this stuff that I don’t wanna do-“

“I thought you liked sports?” Michael frowned. “Uh – sorry. Not the point.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jake shrugged. “I do like sports. Some sports. I like frisbee golf. And track and field, and soccer. I hate archery, though. And football. The padding makes me feel like the Hulk.”

Michael snorted, but they both knew it was fake.

“So why do you do it?”

“Because.” Jake shrugged. “That’s what I have to do. I’m supposed to be the best. Not just at sports or at science and shit but at _everything_. I have to be. And back then, you... You weren’t the best. I mean, I thought you were, but... You know.”

“So what?” Michael muttered, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “You wouldn’t talk to me because I’d ruin your street cred?”

“Yep.” Jake said, popping the ‘p’. Michael jerked his head upwards – he had not been expecting Jake to be that honest. “Pretty pathetic, huh? Wanting people – people you don’t even _like_ – to like you so badly that you don’t even try to talk to the one person you think you could like.”

Michael frowned, his brain crashing like an old computer – _error 404, reaction not found_.

“What...” He said slowly. “What are you trying to say, Jake?”

“I dunno.” Jake shrugged. “I guess... I’m sorry. For being such an idiot. For caring about the opinions of people I don’t even care about. For not even trying to reach out to you when you needed it. Especially when I know you would’ve done it for me if the roles were reversed.”

Michael gnawed on his lower lip, twiddling his fingers in his lap.

“Wait here.” He said quietly, hopping off the bed and half-jogging to the shelves over his desk. He clicked his tongue as he skimmed his finger over the numerous sketch-filled notebooks, each one bursting with post-it notes and bent pages. He grabbed one in the middle of the stack, a yellow one with a little lightbulb on the front that had been filled in with clumsy green Sharpie.

“Here we go.” He mumbled as he wandered back to the bed, skimming through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “There.”

Jake frowned, peeking over his shoulder. His eyes widened at he looked at the page full of sketches.

“Is that me?” He asked, sounding almost dumbfounded.

“Yup.” Michael nodded. “Back in middle school, when I was – well.”

“Hopelessly in love with me?” Jake grinned.

“Shut up or I’ll feed you to my dog.” Michael huffed, letting Jake take the notebook. “But yes.”

“These are amazing...” Jake said quietly as he flipped through the pages. “Shit, you even got my nose right...”

“You have a lot of good angles.” Michael shrugged. “I think I drew you a few times before I realized I liked you. You have a nice face.”

“Thanks.” Jake smiled. “Um – is that me as a superhero?”

“Oh!” Michael squeaked, his face flushing. “Um – yeah, that was, like, a side project I was working on. At first I just drew me as a superhero, and then I did Jeremy, and then I did my moms and it just... Became a whole theme, really. People as superheroes.”

“What’re my powers?”

“Oh – well, first there’s charmspeak.”

Jake looked up at him quizzically.

“People believe anything you say.” Michael explained. “And you have guns, too.”

 _“Yo,_ I have a little cowboy hat!” Jake grinned. “Cowboy superhero – I think that was my dream job when I was a kid. What do my guns do, are they special?”

“They shoot beams of light.”

“That is so dope.” Jake chuckled. “Jesus, Michael, these are incredible. You should be a comic book artist or something.”

“Yeah, sure.” Michael scoffed.

“I mean it!” Jake insisted. “What, you don’t think you could?”

“Well – I did always want to be a game designer.” Michael shrugged. “Like – design the characters and animate them and stuff. But being an artist and stuff like that... It’s kind of hard to make a living out of. It’s the type of thing people say they want to do but never _actually_ do, y’know?”

“I think you could do it.” Jake said, his voice so sincere it made Michael almost want to cry. “I could be your producer! Ooh, or a voice actor!”

Michael laughed quietly, leaning into Jake’s side.

“If I ever become a game designer-“

“When.”

 _“If,”_ Michael said firmly. “I promise I’ll make you a character. Deal?”

“Deal!” Jake grinned. “Hey, uh – Michael?”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you show me this?”

Michael winced, shuffling on the bed.

“W-Well...” He mumbled. “I guess, because... Yeah, I thought you were an asshole for a while. But that was because popular people like you were the people who made me feel like shit. You never did it, but you were still one of them, so I hated you. But back when we were kids – hell, even now – I always thought you were the best.”

Jake blinked, looking at Michael with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Michael smiled. “So – I guess what I’m trying to say is... I forgive you. But you need to quit trying so hard. You don’t need to be the best at everything.” He leaned over and tapped Jake’s Cowboy-Superherosona. “You’re already a hero to me.”

“Really?”

Jake’s voice was husky. Ragged. It vibrated down Michael’s spine and settled in his bones. His tone made Michael look up, and he suddenly realized how close they’d gotten while they were looking through Michael’s notebook. Jake was looking at him in a way Michael had only seen a few times before – the way his mother used to look at his father, the way she now looked at her wife. The way Jeremy looked at Christine.

The way Michael used to look at Jeremy.

“So!” Michael yelped, his voice cracking as he jerked to sit up straight. “Um – yeah, I mean, you’re a hero to a lot of people and, uh – y’know, we could use some popcorn right now, for the movie? I think we have a pack upstairs, I’ll go grab some.”

He didn’t hear what Jake had to say, as he had already sprinted up the basement stairs and burst into the kitchen, leaning over the table and panting heavily.

Okay.

Okay.

Everything was perfectly okay.

Except he was about eighty-five percent sure that he was in love with Jake Dillinger.

No. No, he wasn’t in love with Jake. Jake was just nice – he was kind, and he’d taken care of Michael at the party when he’d had that bad panic attack, and he ate with him under the bleachers and sent him cat pics and laughed and joked with him and oh fuck Michael loved him so bad-

Except _no,_ he didn’t. He couldn’t. He loved Jeremy, he’d _always_ loved Jeremy, it always, always, _always_ came back to Jeremy. So why was he feeling this way about Jake? Maybe he was just affection-starved – it’d been a while since he and Jeremy had even interacted, and Jake was right there being sweet and touchy and affectionate with him. Yes, that had to be it. Jake was just a substitute. A replacement. A Jeremy patch.

So then why had Michael not even thought about Jeremy in over two weeks?

Shit. Shit. Dammit. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Jake had just been a substitute – he’d somehow managed to take Michael’s mind off of his disgusting crush and Michael had taken full advantage of that, so _why_ was this happening?! Jake was supposed to be the vaccine, but he’d given Michael the disease – and Michael had now idea how he’d even done it.

“Michael?”

“Mom!” Michael yelped, whirling around. “Hey. Uh. Hi.”

“Hi?” Nebiha chuckled as she righted her headscarf in place. “I was about to head to work. I thought you were downstairs with Jake?”

“I was.” Michael nodded. “I just – we needed popcorn. We’re watching a movie, it’s one of his favourites.”

“Ooh, fun!” Nebiha smiled. “Which one?”

“The Princess Bride? It’s, like – swordfights and giant rats and stuff.”

“I know what The Princess Bride is, Michael.” Nebiha smirked, ruffling his hair. “I watched it with your mother, come to think of it.”

Michael wondered how long it’d taken for Phoebe to become his mother. He wondered how long it’d taken for his father to become Brian.

“Mom?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“When you broke up with Brian...” He scuffed the floor with his foot, trying to ignore the way his mother was staring at him. He never talked about what happened, even when he was younger. Whenever his mother had asked him how he was feeling, if he wanted to talk to someone, if he was upset, the answer was always the same – ‘I’m fine.’ Because he was fine. Or – he had to be. Because if he wasn’t, then he’d be the poor little kid all the neighbours were talking about. And he wasn’t that kid. He was strong. He didn’t need to be coddled or looked after or taken care of. His mother was the one who lost a husband, a soulmate, a partner. She was the one who’d needed help, not Michael.

He was fine.

“How did you move on?” Michael asked tentatively. “Like – was it hard? Realizing you loved mom instead?”

Nebiha frowned at him for a moment, scanning him up and down.

“Take a seat, sweetheart.” She said gently, sitting down at the kitchen table with him. Michael slipped into the chair across from her, picking at a hangnail on his thumb.

“Michael.” She said, taking his hand in hers. “Your father-“

“Brian.” Michael corrected.

“Brian.” She nodded, chuckling softly. “I loved him very much. He was sweet to me – to both of us. And I knew he struggled and I wanted to help him. But when you started to realize who you were, he started getting angry.”

“Yeah.” Michael said quietly. “I remember that part.”

“And I still wanted to help him.” Nebiha continued. “But I wanted to help you, too. It wouldn’t be fair to force you to be someone you weren’t, just to make him happy. Even if all I wanted to do was make him happy. Because I loved him, Michael. But I love you, too. You’ll never know how much I love you.”

Michael rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. She smiled, squeezing his hand tightly.

“As you started to become more comfortable with who you were,” She went on. “Your father started to show who he was. I’m not sure why I hadn’t noticed it before – maybe he hid it well. Maybe I just didn’t want to see it. But when he left, sweetheart, I wanted to hate him. I wanted to so badly. But I just couldn’t. He was a bad person, Michael, but I still loved him. And love’s a complicated thing.”

“So I’ve heard.” Michael chuckled humorlessly.

“But then your mother came into the picture.” Nebiha continued. “And I know you and the kids don’t like it when we say it but – oh, Michael, she was perfect.”

“Gross.” Michael said, because he was obligated to find his parents gross, even if he didn’t really mean it.

“Hush.” Nebiha chuckled, swatting his head. “We were friends for a while. I knew I still loved your father, no matter how much I didn’t want to. But then she came over one day to help me take care of you – she was such a sweet woman, always trying to help me. She still is.” She smiled at the memory before going back to her story. “So you’d gone to bed for the night, and everything was taken care of – the house was clean, the laundry was done, there was no reason for her to stay. And I just kept thinking... I don’t want her to go. I wanted her right there, with me, not just for that night, but for always.”

“But didn’t you feel guilty?” Michael frowned. “Like – weren’t you worried you were using her to replace him?”

Nebiha nodded slowly.

“I’ll admit, that was a worry of mine.” She said quietly. “But – honestly, looking back, it was kind of a silly thought. Your mother and that man couldn’t be more different, Michael. I think about the way I felt with your father – always worrying if I made him angry, always tiptoeing around him, trying my best to keep him happy, and... That’s not a good kind of love, Michael. You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you. With your mother... She never expected anything of me. She never asked for anything in return. She just loved. And it felt so much safer, so much _better_ , than anything I had with that man.”

Michael swallowed heavily, taking a slow breath.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Thank you, mom.”

“No problem, sweetie.” Nebiha smiled, walking to Michael’s side of the table so she could plant a kiss on his head. “Now go get your popcorn, you don’t want to keep Jake waiting.”

“Oh – right.” Michael chuckled, wandering to the cabinets and digging around for the popcorn. He knew it was in there somewhere...

“I’m glad you have him in your life, Michael.” Nebiha said gently as she grabbed her coat. “You’re very... Relaxed, when he’s around. I’m always worried you keep to yourself too much – you’re so happy all the time, and I love it, Michael, I do, but it makes me worry. I’ve never seen you sad. I don’t think I’ve seen you cry since you were eleven.”

Michael grimaced, thinking back to days spent in his room, lying on his bed as he stared at his glow stars, like he wanted to cry but couldn’t remember how.

“I’m fine, mom.” He said quietly. “Really.”

“I know.” Nebiha nodded. “I just – I’m glad you have someone like Jake. I can see how much you trust him.”

Michael frowned into the darkness of the cabinet.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “I trust him a lot.”

Nebiha smiled. “Does he take care of you?”

Michael thought back to the party – the way Jake had held him tightly and let him cry, the way he’d pulled Michael into the safety of his bedroom and gotten everyone to leave, the way he’d hugged him as they slept.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “He takes care of me. And... I think I take care of him, too.”

“That’s wonderful, Michael.” Nebiha smiled, relief flooding her features. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Michael smiled as best he could. “Have fun at work.”

“Have fun with Jake.” Nebiha smiled. “I’ll see you later!”

Michael sighed as his mother closed the door behind her. Jeremy wasn’t Brian. Michael wasn’t his mother. Jeremy didn’t even know Michael loved him – he wasn’t a bad person just for not loving him back. But still... Michael thought back to what his mother had said. About the bad kind of love. The kind of love that made you worry and panic that you were doing something wrong. He knew Jeremy had never meant for him to feel that way. He didn’t resent him for it. Honestly, he thought he’d liked that kind of love. He thought it was good.

But he felt safe with Jake. He’d felt safer when Jeremy was his friend, not his crush.

Michael grabbed the packet of popcorn and wandered back down to the basement.

“Hey!” Jake grinned, his face brightening once he caught sight of Michael. “Good call with the popcorn – we’re almost at the Fire Swamp so we’re _definitely_ gonna need popcorn for this and - um.” He frowned, cocking his head curiously. “Are you okay? You look all... Panicky.”

Michael blinked, shaking himself out of his stupor.

“Sorry.” He said quickly. “Just... Thinking.”

Jake rolled his eyes.

“One day, you’re gonna think so hard you’ll pull a muscle in your brain and you’ll have to go to the hospital and I will give you the mother of all I-told-you-so’s.” He smirked, tugging Michael beside him on the bed.

“The brain doesn’t have muscles, Jake.” Michael scoffed. “You’re a science whiz, you should know that!”

“That’s just how hard you think, Michael.” Jake shrugged. “It’s like you’re making your brain deadlift a thousand weights. Give it a cooldown, wouldja?”

“You’re weird.” Michael chuckled, poking his face. “But fine, I’ll give it a cooldown. Let’s watch.”

“Nice.” Jake grinned, pressing play. Michael glanced at his face from the corner of his eye – he was so enamoured with the movie that he’d actually started mouthing the lines. It was adorable.

Michael tensed, looking away.

Eighty five percent. He was eight five percent sure. Just eighty five.

“Oh, great scene, great scene!” Jake squealed, grabbing Michael’s hand. “Look look look!”

... Maybe ninety five percent.

“Isn’t this just the best thing you’ve ever seen?!” Jake grinned, his eyes wide and sparkling. Michael wet his lips, trying not to make his staring too obvious.

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It’s... It’s pretty amazing.”

"Pass me some popcorn?" Jake asked. Michael handed him the bag, his spine tingling when Jake's hand brushed his.

"As you wish."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope michael's family background makes sense now. he had a dad, the dad left, his mom remarried and now they're also fostering. they started fostering when michael was about thirteen so he's had taylor and christine as siblings for around four years. also, nebiha mell marrying a piece of shit homophobe and then getting remarried to the biggest lesbian ever? power move.


End file.
